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Wednesday morning. Got up early to find I had a flat tire--you could see the nailhead sticking out. Called cousin Bubba, who came and put on the donut, and went with me to get the flat repaired. (By the time I got to the repair place, the donut was flat. These miserable ugly little tires should be called DO-NOTS-- since they almost useless.)
The repairman said "these tires have dry rot, you need new tires." Well, another new one on me. I didn't know tires could dry rot. Jeeze. Went to the car dealership in Hattiesburg, to see what they had to say. In the waiting room was another woman, with a beatific look on her face. All she was missing was a halo over her head. We got into conversation. I told her my troubles, she told me hers.
This woman had the most horrendous problems, and I asked how she could be so serene. She said she was a true believer, a Born Again Christian, so she had peace in her heart. She said God only punishes the ones he loves. This concept leaves me cold. I want a God who will be kind and loving and un-punishing. I told her if you have to suffer to be loved by Him, I want no part of it.
Well, later that day, I, who can't get away with anything, started having pain in my arm from a recurrent pinched nerve. The pain is so bad it knocks you to your knees. Grrrrr! If the US wants to make the prisoners at Guantanamo fess us, they don't have to play Celine Dion and rap music. Just pinch a nerve in their arm--they'll confess to anything to make it stop.
Pain makes me more curmudgeonly than usual. I was listening to GW Bush chastising the Chinese about human rights etc. He, who curtailed civil rights in his own country, shaking his finger at any other government is such hypocrisy. The Russians have already told him to f*ck off and mind his own business after he shook his finger at them.
Then the Brett Farve thing has been front page news every day here, since he's a home town boy. Listen Brett, you say every year you're gonna retire, then decide to un-retire. Make up your mind--you can't expect the Packers to dance to your tune. No one is irreplaceable; they have to move on after you say "I'm retiring."
So shut up and move on, just like the Packers are.
Got that off my chest, bye for now, susil.
