18-1. Best team ever? We no longer need to have that discussion. The Patriots and Belicheat must feel like they were kicked in the crotch by an elephant on steroids. The best part of all -- I get to spend the next three days with a rabid Patriots fan. I have a bucket of salt to rub in that raw bleeding wound.
Posting will be light as I head to warmer climes to work a trade show. In the time/space continuum there are normal hours and there are trade show hours. They say a dog lives seven years for every one of ours. A trade show hour is one seventh of a regular hour. That means if you are there for two hours, it seems like fourteen. Trust me on this. They like to hold these fetes at nice warm locations, thinking that makes it more palatable. Instead, it is just cruel that you are stuck inside. Of course the location is what lures the attendees -- a vacation and free stuff for spending 40 minutes at the show. What really sucks is I will be sans car so I will be stuck with my colleagues the whole time. The stitches in the jaw preclude smoking some choice stogies in the sun.
My mouth is feeling pretty good. The wife was bitching at me for bleeding on the sheets Friday night. I said I did not do it on purpose. I must have moved my head off the towel I put down for that purpose while I was sleeping. I guess I was not supposed to move. I punched her right in the nose. That shut her pie hole. Not really. I did not punch her and it did not stop her yammering. She was just in one of those moods yesterday.
I have to shower, pack and get some wipers for the car before I head to the airport. The left one is in shreds. Have a good Monday, Mofos.