Welcome, Pixies, to the Whiner's Ball! This edition is brought to you by the Muzak people and catalog retailers everywhere, whose fine holiday products will be wringing your last nerve for the next 6 weeks. Ho. Ho. Ho!
Antiwhine: We had a great weekend visiting daughter! It was Dads' Weekend at the U, and her marching band assured a victory at the home game, with the able assistance of the band's Dancing Dads. With only 2 hours of professional dance training, several dozen middle-aged dads marched bravely onto the field before 46,000 fans and performed to the Elvis hit, "Hunka Hunka Burning Love," with arms, midsections, and legs going every which-way. The crowd was breathless, particularly the spousal sector, which is still collapsing into giggles at the memory. Good sports, those dads.
Whine: My SIL, age 50, now has been officially diagnosed with early dementia and is apparently going downhill fast. She needs a conservatorship, and the doctor called my beloved on Saturday night to say SIL cannot live independently. She also cannot stay here; the last time she did was a 24/7 rolling disaster. Please think good thoughts for my beloved, and for SIL's first husband, who is helping out; there is really nobody else.
Antiwhine: Annika got to go home! Woo-hoo!
Antiwhine: Cats! Except the one who keeps pooping in the bathtub. And the one who thinks tearing up the carpet in front of a door is the same as saying "Open Sesame."
Let 'er rip, Pixies! What's the news this week? Prizes for Old Skool, Style, and Elevated Risk of Mullet. Passing the chocolate, and I'm pretty sure Liz is ready to saddle up the Cluestick Posse, should the need arise.