Bro. Hudepohl came running through the office, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Joey won the gold! Joey won the gold!" Apparently spoiler policies don't apply to Franciscan friars whose nephews just won gold.
Made me wonder what my uncle's policy would be. Which made me entirely blank on what flavor priest he was. Finally flashed on
t his name
OSA, so Order of St. Augustine.
Truth be told though? I am just dementedly chanting, "OSA! OSA! OSA!" in the spirit of Olympic fever. Which I didn't have until the religious spoiler policies were brought up.
And, yes, I am going to a myriad of hells.
Snow's coming down pretty steadily here, but it's not sticking yet. I understand that the weather people get ratings by predicting TWELVE ZILLION INCHES OF DEATHSNOW, but I'd much rather hear "2-4 inches" and be pleasantly surprised than the other way around.
Skippy
Watching my tape of the opening ceremony and trying to identify the narrator of the opening montage of NBC's coverage and realized it's Andre Brauer! Cool!
We are trying to buy a new cordless phone at Amazon and there are approximately 4000 choices, all of which seem to have a wild mix of positive and negative reviews, and whose variability in price seems completely arbitrary.
Why so we like the internet again? Freedom from choice is what I want.
I just got an email from our associate pastor, letting me know tomorrow's morning services have been called off on account of the snow storm. Mind you, this is New England, and not one flake has fallen.
I ought to get a cookie for refraining from sending my first response: "Oh ye of little faith."
Heh, heh, heh. Cindy funny.
We've got a couple of inches here. I'm cozily ensconced on the couch with a blankie while I consider dinner options. I did brave the grocery store today, but only for four items. In and out in less than fifteen minutes. Weaving through all the crazy.
I was hoping for a H:LotS DVD from Netflix in the mail, but no such luck. I guess I'll manage anyway.
TWELVE ZILLION INCHES OF DEATHSNOW
KILLER FROST!
And now I am envisioning a movie trailer in which the heroine is stalked by a serial killer series of snowflakes, each unique, yet each sharing a single purpose. It’s like the Borg.
A few years ago Mom's church had a new pastor who also without a flake, morning of, cancelled church by PUTTING A SIGN ON THE DOOR. He didn't last long.
I'm not sure if the congregation of First Presbyterian was more offended because a) the manse was next door or b) it was so lutheranish of him to do.
Damn, I kind of wish we were getting that kind of snow.
