Someone Always Get There Before You.

I was coming up from the depths of the tube yesterday and a small girl, no older than six handed me a pamphlet and I thought "Oh Good, some more Scientology nonsense to leaf through!" I looked at it and thought "How peculiar." On the front it said "Hell Is No Myth" surrounded by fiery graphics and such, opened it up and there were all these bible prophecy nonsense babblings. Some of them repeated. I looked calmly at the girl and said,

"You know Santa Clause IS a myth and you WILL NOT be getting anything for Christmas. Not because you're a particularly BAD girl, but because of the poverty you are living in you see. And this nonsense you are peddling to complete strangers is your 'church's' means of making you feel content even blessed with that poverty, rather than rising up like the formidable proletarian army you could be, your parents just breed and breed and breed themselves into even more desperate proverty."

Of course I'm kidding. I just walked away and read her nice little pamphlet. But it did get me thinking. Where has all the Yankee drama gone? I don't know why it doesn't raise a spark in me like it used to. Of course I would never turn a game off, and I always love watching baseball generally, but the Yankees are at the top of the pile and it just isn't stirring anything in me. Not like it used to. No. Like all my heaps of Barbour gear I think it has to be placed squarely on the shelf for a bit. I am still a little bitter about the Barbour dog pile. I had to read this rubbish this morning and it almost sent me right back to bed. I hope someone would tell them that being written up on that horrid little blog is the equivalent of jumping the shark. Compadre had to tell me what that meant. Comments still can't be missed however.