Another day, another dollar/dollar-and-a-half, depending on where you live, and we arrive, breathless and just a tad giddy, at the cusp of yet another glorious possibility of a weekend.
And as we have in the past, we look to my iPod and its shuffled-song predictions for the future.
Because everyone knows that the songs played during Friday morning’s commute have bearing on the upcoming weekend.
It’s true. Don’t fight me.
There is a Mountain by Donovan
Weirdo by The Charlatans
Whipping Post by Allman Brothers
It Goes On and On by The Avett Brothers
This is Radio Clash by The Clash
Twist and Crawl by English Beat
Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd
What’s it mean? It means life is short. Make that phone call.
So do we have time? Just a quick one before you're off doing whatever it is you do?
The alarm bee-bee-beeping right around 5:20, I walked in on this earlier in the week...
Dolly taps her cigarette into an ashtray shaped like a Spaniard’s helmet and chews on the end of her pen.
You’ve met Dolly “Gee” Squeakers, haven’t you? One part Siamese, one part Tabby, and, oddly enough, one part badger, the delightfully cross-eyed cat is seated at the kitchen table in the early-morning light, the Final Four Men’s Division I Basketball Champeenship bracket in front of her.
She gazes out the kitchen window as she considers her approach.
Having given it as much thought as her attention span allows, this year’s March Madness tactic for filling out her bracket is a simple one: all animals.
This means that in a contest between the Gators and the Bruins, she’s gotta go with the Bruins. Unless the game is held in a swimming pool, in which case the Gators will most surely dominate.
She also chooses every available team named after a bird.
“On the other paw,” she mutters, staring out the kitchen window, “I like the lookth of the Nittany Lionth.”
Poor Dolly. Teased as a kitten for her lisp, it is a rare moment that we catch her talking to herself.
In the end, however, Dolly is taking Kansas for the win. “You can’t go wrong with the Jayhawkth,” she says.
And with that, Dolly Gee Squeakers, formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers, sets down her pen, crushes her cigarette in the ashtray and jumps from the stool to the floor, whereupon she flops on to one side and promptly falls asleep.
To Do...Or Not
6 hours ago