Well, it was pretty easy to do the ol’ social distancing today.
The fog crept down the foothills like something out of a Sherlock Holmes movie, followed by the rain, and finally, the snow.
Well, it was “snow” only in the sense that it involved fat white flakes falling, but nothing stuck around long enough to be shoveled. It certainly wouldn’t have kept a Belgian off the bike. I don’t think anything can.
But it did the trick for me. I rode the trainer for 45 minutes, which I hate, and then did a little light resistance training, which also, too, and likewise.
Still, anything beats watching our national “leadership” act more like Al Capone than Al Schweitzer. These pendejos couldn’t organize a beer run for a frat house if the liquor store were downstairs.
Mad Blog Media 
We got a couple wet inches. Most of it finally melted. But like you, I stayed indoors for the most part. Walking the dog is mandatory.
There are days when I wish I had to walk Miss Mia Sopaipilla. And today is one of ’em. She just dropped a deuce that deserves its own Superfund site. Peeeeeyewwww.
And with all that rain snow s**t you’re trapped in
side with it!
Frat house-liquor store-downstairs! Where oh where do you come up with these gems? I regret not keeping a log in case I’m required to give a speech or toast before I khack. I’d give you credit of course.”Here’s an old saying from a guy out New Mexico way name of O’Grady who could fart up a 20 foot rope and beat the smell to the end.” That’s an old Hoosier expression I never really understood but my old man led me to believe its a compliment. Then I could borrow one of your quotes and really slay em. Keep em coming POG they are priceless.
You are so right Herb. Those beauties just keep on coming. I have only come up with one that Patrick said he was stealing. That’s an old thang I hear in Georgia when I lived there. Tighter than a gnat’s ass stretched over a rain barrel.
I wish I could claim it was genius, but I think it’s totally random. My brain has a taste for odd expressions — it collects and archives them, and then either regurgitates them whole or with additions/subtractions to suit a given occasion. Some keyword(s) serve as the trigger: “Dumber than … horny as. …” And like that there.
You watch. Rope-farting and gnat-stretching will reappear at some point wearing a fresh coat of paint.
With that talent, O’G, you should run for POTUS. Sure is a hell of a lot more relevant an expertise than the orange mother—–r who is in the White House right now.
Careful Khal. I used to carelessly toss that out but Patrick asked me, “why do you treat me so bad?” So I quit. I wouldn’t wish cleaning up after the disaster of the last three years on anyone. Place needs a clean sweep to be sure, but that ain’t going to happen.
True. Nothing wrong with D.C. that a direct hit from an asteroid would not cure.