Showing posts with label Michael Vick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Vick. Show all posts

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Thoughts on a Thursday


As of this morning, the little flag thingy over there in the sidebar indicates that people from 59 countries have visited this blog since the flag-thingy was installed back in December. That is downright amazing. Needless to say, I am pleased. Welcome to you all!

Two of the countries in the thingy’s list do not exist. They are figments of someone’s imagination. One is called “Unknown - European Union” and the other is called “Unknown - Asia/Pacific Region.” Very curious.

It pains me that on the map of the world in the Feedjit Live Traffic Map thingy there are no red dots in Greenland, Antarctica, or Africa (a few have appeared in Africa from time to time, but have “aged off” the map). And it pains me even more that New Zealand does not even appear on the Feedjit Live Traffic Map. I have had visitors from New Zealand (hi, Katherine!), but the Feedjit Live Traffic Map people apparently consider that country so inconsequential that it hasn’t even been given the courtesy of a spot on the map. Even Madagascar gets that. Katherine, a thousand pardons.

Spring has already sprung in north Georgia even though the vernal equinox is still a week and a half away. The jonquils, forsythia, Bradford pears, cherries, and tulip trees are all blossoming and blooming away. But it isn’t really considered spring around here until the azaleas and the dogwoods and the redbuds make their annual appearance. We’re still waiting for those.

Michael Vick, late of the Atlanta Falcons football team, was released from the federal prison in Leavenworth, Kansas, a couple of days ago. His home in Atlanta went on the auction block in Atlanta this week. Twenty thousand square feet. Starting price of $3.2 million dollars, with additional bids to be in increments of at least $25,000 -- there were no takers. None.

Because I was raised in Texas (although I am not a native), things with a Texas connection tend to catch my eye. This week, conservative columnist Pat Buchanan wrote a column entitled “Lyndon Baines Obama” that you can read here. (Note. My link is to Mr. Buchanan’s own blog and not to Human Events, where it is also published, because my readers might have been forced to see photos of Sarah Palin, Newt Gingrich, and Ann Coulter above the headline of Mr. Buchanan's column at Human Events, and I don't want to upset anyone or offend anyone’s delicate sensibilities. But some of you might want to sneak over there and read some of the comments that follow Mr. Buchanan’s column.)

There is method in my madness. A few minutes with the madding crowd and you should be happy, even relieved, to come here and partake of my good old non-political blog.

<b>English Is Strange (example #17,643) and a new era begins</b>

Through, cough, though, rough, bough, and hiccough do not rhyme, but pony and bologna do. Do not tell me about hiccup and baloney. ...