So we’re sitting around of an afternoon listening to audio clips from The Onion Radio News, and one of the stories features an area man’s failure to buy bread for sandwiches for 62 consecutive weeks. I simply allow as how that’s not beyond the realm of believability, and opine that, domesticity-wise, men on their own is not a good idea. Beloved elder daughter, apple of my eye but, more critically, direct offshoot of my thought processes, and by now well aware of the semester or so during which I sustained myself almost entirely on peanut butter and marshmallow concoctions, flatly states, “No personal experience, Fluff boy.” I am hurt to the quick.
We have had a lot of Christmas ornaments over the years – bought, given, inherited, made by children. Every year, […]
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I generally have a policy against wishing away the days, weeks, months, and years, but 2016 is one I won’t […]
(This also appears on my history website, Hoxsie.org.) After years of good intentions but poor execution, of being somewhat nearby […]
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Well, that was a weekend. Oy. For starters, the whole thing was driven by an event that isn’t even possible: […]