I fried up some chicken last night. I added some mashed spuds, some excellent gravy, green beans and biscuits. No one can be down and depressed when facing a platter of fried chicken and a bowl of white gravy.
The Colts pulled out an ugly win over the hapless Browns, and the Bears blew it in Minnesota. I guess the East Coast pundits have to eat it a little, maybe they crowned the Jets a little early?
I have always been a superstitious cuss. It occurred to me yesterday that the worst events in my life all happened after I started this worthless excuse of a website. Are the two related? My brain says heck no. My superstitious voodoo fearing insides say quit now before things get really ugly. I know what you are saying, is he really that crazy? Let me put it this way, I used to make decisions by flipping a series of wooden nickles I kept in a cotton bag. Should I ask that girl on a date? Flip, flip, flip. I got my wife that way.
Of course I could be making it all up. I could be a 350 pound transvestite typing away in the library before heading off to work as sous chef at the local Dennys. It is the Internet people.