Rush this...

How fun - Rush Limbaugh is back-pedaling from his comments about phony soldiers hot on the heels of the MoveOn ad. And, here is one of the phony soldiers commenting back to Mr. Limbaugh, whose never been in the military and claims he had a medical reason to not serve in Vietnam.

Ingrown butt hair, it seems.

Apparently, although his medical records suggest that he was healed, his ass is still bothering him. Maybe it's that boil on his ass that causes his vituperance and mean spirited statements.

I must now report that my interest in a Phaeton is deader than a doornail. The stories I read last week about the significant mechanical issues, and the expected dealership experiences killed it, when added to my level of frustration at my treatment at David Taylor, and other Houston area dealers over the last twenty years.

Went to Nicole's grandmother's this morning to sit with her while she had another estate sale - got a bunch of wooden hangars, cleaning supplies, ash trays for Bram's courtyard, a hall tree for the office. Met David at Red Robin for lunch, and had fun watching a private ambulance pull out of the parking lot and rip the nose off of a Toyota Corolla in the parking lot. I swear that the driver was considering just driving off, but then he realized that there were people watching, and he stopped.

After that, home to meet up with a guy from a Craigslist ad that I posted who was interested in some of my model trains. He was a tad early, and he bought five locomotives from me. Then, we went to Target, picked up my Byetta prescription ($242.00) and went to Petco and bought a new clipper for Jackie's forest of dirty hair, came home. Was planning on going to Baytown to look at the desk. I called, and the guy wasn't around. He's called a bunch of times to tell me I could go over there, but my intended window was already closed. I haven't listened to the messages yet.

Then, we had a nap - well, I had a nap. It was a hard nap, in which one awakens in a dazed state. My dazed state included waking from a dream that I was being choked by my room mate. NOT the most fun one can have. Time to make another Psych-K appointment, I'm guessing. It IS my birthday, so it's something I can give myself.

I'm invited to a party tonight; why do I so NOT want to do these things?