This morning’s first post would be truly substantive…

But that’s not who we are.

Left me wondering, ‘well, who the hell does he think we are, exactly?’

I’m going to wash some laundry, and then as soon as the temperature permits carbon dioxide to sublimate back into the atmosphere I’m going out to shoot my new pistol. Because that’s who I am.

Also, Seymour the young and stupid cock bird is out there crowing right now – possibly because a Sunday Dinner is who he is. So far he’s not being obnoxious about it, but I have tried to explain that it’s not a good survival strategy.