False hope

It is that time of year again - decking the halls and "the lights aren't twinkling, Clark," but the thermometer has read over the 80-degree-mark for nearly a week and my mind has warmed to the idea that maybe there is something going on down south.

Apparently the normality will come back from vacation tomorrow and my timing is impeccable as always. It's not that it is a bad idea, like that guy who parked his new Lexus over the line next to my truck, obviously oblivious to the constellation of door dings and paint chips and way too close to allow a man of my fortitude easy access to the drivers seat without a scene. That was a bad idea.

They are just a little lethargic, that's all, ain't gonna move very far for it. Gotta hit 'em in the nose, wake 'em cold bastards up a little. And don't forget the cognac.