Autocorrect hates Jiminy

Up with a delicious mug of hot chocolate made by stirring into my morning cup of black coffee, 1:29 in the a.m. oh-one-twenty-nine hours in some Navy ship somewhere here with me in the central time zone. 27°F and headed for 24° by five o’clock, six o’clock, this is something; but toasty warm here in the Beck room of 7H, now my den but not office. I installed beautiful real wood paneling in my office in Benedict Hall at Trinity, Apalachicola and can’t believe they painted it white. Jiminy.

See, this is what happens to the mind once it gets caught in the spiraling blackhole whirlpool of regressing agedness. 

It gets no better: Father Nature rang just after midnight, and here’s what kept me from going back to sleep for an hour after returning to bed: in the CFB national championship game, the Alabama quarterback passed the ball to his receiver in the Georgia end zone. The receiver grabbed the ball but it slipped out of his grasp and was caught by a Georgia player, who downed the ball. It was a touchback, am I right or wrong? no points but the ball was taken out to the Georgia 20 yard line with Georgia taking possession, first and ten, or did I miss something? What did I miss and why is that play from two weeks ago causing me to lose sleep, I didn’t have no dog in that fight.



Anu Garg's perfect thought
A THOUGHT FOR TODAY:

Only the madman is absolutely sure. -Robert Anton Wilson, novelist (18 Jan 1932-2007) 


Drowsy now. 25°F and falling.

DThos+