How to know when you've been blogging too much:
You're up on your treadmill aka daily torture machine slogging along, watching Ellen, letting her infectious good humor, interesting guests, music and dancing, make the experience minimally tol'able.
Cut to commercial. Local attorney is peering out of the screen at you, pointing:
"Are you a worried homo?"
And you hear your mind replying, "Why yes. Yes, I am. Thank you very much. And you are who? Have we met?"
And then you see the screen flashing the question, "Are you a worried homeowner?"
And you realize local attorney has softened and swallowed the last two syllables, ditching the r, in that way some of us have in the South . . . .
You're up on your treadmill aka daily torture machine slogging along, watching Ellen, letting her infectious good humor, interesting guests, music and dancing, make the experience minimally tol'able.
Cut to commercial. Local attorney is peering out of the screen at you, pointing:
"Are you a worried homo?"
And you hear your mind replying, "Why yes. Yes, I am. Thank you very much. And you are who? Have we met?"
And then you see the screen flashing the question, "Are you a worried homeowner?"
And you realize local attorney has softened and swallowed the last two syllables, ditching the r, in that way some of us have in the South . . . .