Everyone at work is asking "What are you doing for the Fourth?"
Hm. What do "normal" people do? Cook out slabs of E. coli-laced meat, eat potato salad that has been sitting in the sun long enough to spawn food poisoning and drink a lot of cheap American beer.
Once properly liquored up, they handle dangerous explosives, usually with kids standing nearby.
Gosh I don't know. I think I will be busy hiding under the couch with my dog.
I'm almost as sensitive as Goldie, so the Fourth has always been my least favorite holiday. I think hiding under the couch is a perfectly reasonable response to the hoopla.
And I don't even want to get into the whole patriotism thing because I'm afraid I will begin holding my knees and rocking and muttering about the first amendment, the Geneva convention and the general nutlessness of the Democratic party.
And I'm not just in a bad mood because my birthday falls soon after and I will be officially old. I'm in a bad mood because I share my birthday with George Bush.
All I need to say about Linkateria today is that it has a link to a site about third nipples. Isn't that enough?