Sorry this is a few hours late (like you were sitting there hammering the F5 key or something), but the holiday on Monday threw me off–I had forgotten that Wednesday was here already.

Anyhow, here’s Gordon waking up with the sound of thunder ringing in his ears. It’s actually the sound of ringing thundering in his ears, but it doesn’t make a whole lot of difference to him. At least you now know what all those weird letter Rs from last time are supposed to be.

My daughter’s 1st birthday and Francois Mitterand’s last meal

Yesterday was my daughter’s first birthday. That year went fast. Of course I’m still having a hard time believing that my son is already 7. Geez I’m old. Anyhow, we had a party for her on Sunday, and while talking to my brother-in-law Dwight, the conversation turned to Francois Mitterand’s last meal. I’ll skip the details, but if you’re curious, just Google it or check out Wikipedia or something. Now I’m usually a pretty tolerant guy, but those freakin’ Frogs are just plain weird. Who was the guy that figured out that the way a tiny songbird tastes the best is after it’s been force fed and then drowned in brandy? I realize that French cuisine doesn’t have the patent on cruelty, and that any culture that’s foreign to you is going to seem…foreign, but WOW.

And have you noticed that when someone says something like “I’m a pretty tolerant guy, but…” or “I’m not a rascist or anything, but…” they usually follow it up w/ something vile and offensive?

Lousy Frogs.