Jake was lying on the window ledge behind the sofa yesterday afternoon, looking quite dead. When I said, “Yo, Jake! Whazzup?” he said, “Mao!” and went back to looking dead.
Yesterday, I told Charlie about my cholesterol and triglyceride numbers and in a round about way, he asked if I was on medication for it. Nope, not me. Then we got into a discussion on ways of life (farmers as opposed to desk jockeys, Europeans or American) and the fact that pre-packaged foods are probably at fault for the plague of obesity and diabetes in this country. And then there are plagues of other kinds — like depression. The list goes on.
I have to go to Walmart, but Pete said he’d do the rocker panels this morning. HAH! I won’t hold my breath.