Pacing the Floor

I read an article claiming time travel is impossible. Something about being able to go backwards and forwards in space and distance, but the ways the law of physics are set up, you can only go forward in time. This latest revelation is disappointing in that this means I can’t travel back in time and kick myself in the ass for buying a house in El mirage.

This is going to be short as I am on the cusp of grandpahood. Pretty exciting stuff. I thought maybe they would name the lad Phos II, or Phosworth, or something like that, but maybe it would be best if Phos didn’t become a family name. I just barely dodged the old family name - McAllister. Fortunately for me my Dad’s Labrador retriever was selected to carry on the tradition. I don’t think dogs care what you call them as long as there is food involved.

The Maintenance required light went on, reminding me of Little Lamb’s post on auto repairs. It is no coincidence that the light flicked don the minute I hit 10K miles. I was told by the deal that “We need to do an inspection on the car”. So now even your own car has been turned against you.

I think we should start dirty sock Wednesday, like Half Naked Thursday, only with socks.

I found out from KB that New Zealand doesn’t have Kangaroos, or Kookaburras, or dingoes. I am thinking about taking up a collection to buy them some, because it just doesn’t seem right them not having any. Well, at least they have hobbits there…