Nothing like, well, nothing to report. Heh.
Let’s see. First of all, you do not want to know just how much effort went into getting this to look ok. Any of you with mad CSS skillz can roll your eyes now. But I wanted my ‘related posts’ links to look like the ‘tags’ links, and they just wouldn’t do it.
This old porch is a steamin’ greasy plate of enchiladas
With lots of cheese and onions ans a guacamole salad
You can get them at the LaSalle Hotel in old downtown
With ice tea and a waitress who will smile every time
Oh yeah, I left a quarter tip on my ten dollar bill
After all that work (we’re talking DAYS here, people), it still doesn’t look right in IE. So I have more work to do. I don’t use IE, but if you are one of the 85% of my visitors who does and it looks screwy? Well, sorry bout that.
I ran this morning (3 1/2 miles. Okay, almost 3 1/2 miles) and still no Carpenters. This morning was Robert Earl Keen, Junior, singing the Front Porch song.
This old porch is like a weathered grey haired seventy years of Texas
Who’s doin’ all he can not to give in to the city
And he always takes my rent late so long as I run his cattle
He picks me up at dinner time and I listen to him rattle
He says the Brazos still runs muddy like she’s run all along
There’s never been no cane to grind and the cotton’s all but gone
You know this Chevrolet pickup truck, hell she was somethin’ back in ’60
But now there won’t nobody listen to him ’cause they all think he’s crazy
I hope I live long enough that people think I’m crazy. (hush, you in the back)
I also love that I’m now getting daily search hits for Karen Carpenter. Even though I really don’t have anything about her here (I still get hits for Emma Watson, this morning somebody was looking for her breast milk. WTF?)
Also, I had to take out my photo albums because I’ve been suddenly flooded with google image searches from muslim countries looking for nekkid women. I guess they can’t look at nekkid women directly (perhaps the Saudis filter their results?) but my photo page was basically a cached copy of my Flickr groups. Guess what that was doing to my bandwidth. Yeah. Sucks like Paris Hilton.
I am so going to love the google hits from this entry.
This old porch is just a long time of waiting and forgetting
Remembering the coming back and not crying about the leaving
And remembering the falling down and the laughter of the curse of luck
From all those son’s of bitches who said we’d never get back up
Oh, yeah, I added a deal that if you find my blog by a search engine, it automagically suggests some entries you might like to see.
It’s been rainy here this week (in case you haven’t been reading) and so we have not had a single soccer practice this week. Tonite’s the last chance, and the fields are still squishy, so I think it’s doubtful.
I watched “Rabbit-Proof Fence” last night and dayum, people are assholes. Any time somebody starts going on about banning this or that person based on their gender / religious / sexual preferences, I can’t help but think about most of human history, where the color of your skin or who you were related to was seen as an indicator of your place in the world.
If anyone thinks we’ve advanced beyond that way of thinking, look around.
This old porch is a big old red and white Herford bull
Standing under a mesquite tree out in Agua Dulce
He keep’s on playing hide and seek with that hot August sun
He’s sweating and a panting ’cause his work is never done
I’ve know a whole lot of bulls in my time, and there work is never done.