At least for the moment, friends and followers of this humble blog can now be seen in one quick, sweeping, breathtaking view!
I notice that some blogspot.com blogs have this problem and some don't, seemingly randomly, though I'm sure there is a reason in each individual case. Just because you have the Followers element on your blog, doesn't mean people attempting to view your valuable contributions to the blogosphere will have to repeatedly refresh the page to see your remarkable talent, or that seems to be the case anyway. I checked numerous blogs and the issue appears to be unrelated to simply having the Followers element displayed on a blog , though the Blogger expert says otherwise. But on to my pants.
Yesterday morning, crossing the desert by car (you didn't think I was using a camel, did you?) I saw an old man with two trash bags, one slung over each shoulder, standing on the shoulder of the highway. As I got closer he stuck his thumb in the air, an obvious obscene gesture of some sort, so I chose to ignore the insult and just zoomed past him instead of picking him up and driving the poor old guy to wherever he wanted to go, as I would have if he hadn't been so obnoxious. Then I got to thinking. There are a couple of those stupid Border Patrol check points along the way (just getting the sheeple used to the Police State) and I thought what if some illegal substance was in those bags?. I mean, since even breathing is almost a crime these days, you could lose your vehicle to the forfeiture laws even if you're later judged not guilty of one the State's imaginary "crimes". I'll have more to say on those check points in a later post, by the way. But on again to my pants.
So, I get a call from work that we're having visitors of some importance in the office and that I must where dress pants not blue jeans. I look down, taking my eyes off the road, and notice that indeed I am wearing the forbidden denim. I explain I've been out of town and was heading straight to work but to change clothes will cost me time as I'll have to go home and hope I have some clean, pressed, acceptable attire in the closet. I let them know it will make me late, and they say that's fine. So, home I go. It takes me at least an extra 20 minutes to do all that, and I arrive at work only to find that none of the bigwig VIPs are in the vicinity of where I perform my tasks and thus will never be subjected to my sartorial folly of wrinkled too short frayed grey pants and a tucked in shirt at least one size too small along with unshined black shoes that would even be rejected by Goodwill and Salvation Army thrift store shoppers.
As I'm thinking such thoughts, a co-worker let's us know of his remarkable super fast typing skills, whereupon I mention my similar ability, stating I also have super fast typing, only that when I use it the result is indistinguishable from random gibberish (as opposed to regular, readable gibberish, that is) and then proceed to demonstrate.
That afternoon saw us presented with free food, actually trays of left-over sandwiches that those special guests had already picked over. I tried a cheese and turkey, and it tasted good, but it made me sick.
No comments:
Post a Comment
If the post you are commenting on is more than 30 days old, your comment will have to await approval before being published. Rest assured, however, that as long as it is not spam, it will be published in due time.