Our Weekend

Hello Troops,
And here we are, Troubadours all, telling our heroic tales and singing our epic ballads for a few silver coins hopefully tossed into our cups by the generous in our villages. I'm at my desk once again. Friday's evening is surrending to Saturday's morning. I hear a few voices in the ships. The boys are settling down to sleep.

McKay just sat the Happy Bucket on the desk to my left. An Odyssey camper had that volcanic feeling earlier in the evening and requested the bucket's collection service. Luckily the bucket wasn't used and waits for me to store away until called for again. I'm starting to wonder if this gray bucket may be an omen. I hope not. I hope Fortuna is mischievously engaged elsewhere. I'm hoping our little corner of the world in Pleasant Grove is overlooked as she scours the land looking for lives to disrupt. Move along Fortuna, move along. There is nothing to see here.


Today's news was full with politics from the G8 in Europe to hopefuls tossing their hats into the 2012 election. The think tanked, focus grouped clap trap that comes out of their mouths is mind numbing. I feel like I'm being managed and manipulated every time one of them speaks. They remind me of television evangelists who offer salvation in the promised land governed by their policies and dictates only if you prove your worth by becoming financial supporters, strictly adhering to their cause and voting as you're told.

Remember, a pig is still a pig, even with lipstick. Don't be fooled by the smoke and mirrors from both parties. Be intelligent, look at the issues, read the arguments from both sides and decide based on your values and vision for the future of this nation.

And Now a Few morsels from the Imaginarium.....

The future represented by this photograph from my childhood didn't come to pass. It was an older generation's imaginations of our life tomorrow. Funny isn't it. I suppose it is true to some degree. Our food today is is removed from the mechanical freezer and nuked in the appliance microwave. I guess machines are feeding us.


This is Rick Rolfs. He consumes a great deal of the Imaginarium's time as our Dream Agents work round the clock to prevent him from carrying out terrible schemes against his sister and neighbors. There is a sub section of the Imaginarium's Ministry of Dreams devoted to children just like Rick who were born with over active imaginations. This Sup Section spends most of its time trying to modify their renegade imaginations by having them imagine the consequences of their actions. So far, no success with Rick Rolfs. More later.

And this tossed in for good measure.

And finally, something for those of you with cell phones surgically attached to your body.

I'm nearly asleep. It is time to call it a night. I'll be making the WalMart Donut run at first light.

Mr. W.