What a week. Everyone’s cat puked, everyone’s dog crapped where it shouldn’t have, everyone’s dinner got burnt at least once, ants are looking for water in the bathrooms, one of your friends or relatives asked for money, and Little Green Footballs still has the most inane commenters of the entire internest. Only one thing left to do.
It’s officially Happy Hour on The Overnight Open Thread!
[Image found here.]
Where were these fun mindless mudflaps when I was on the prowl? It’s a rhetorical question, since it’s obvious to me that they had yet to be born. Before you read too much into that, here’s a diversion to contemplate:
What if there were no rhetorical questions?
As the man who adopted the name of poet Dylan Thomas once said, “The answer, my friend, is blowing in the Overnight Open Thread.” –Bob Thomas
The Diary of Daedalus
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