Expect tomorrow to be a slow news day, too.

They pretty much preemptively shut down the DC area tomorrow; schools are closed, government’s closed, I don’t even know if there’s going to be mail. Which is going to be problematical, because the second Xbox controller was supposed to show up tomorrow and the kids are getting a little stir-crazy.  To be fair: so are their parents.

To be doubly fair; so is the rest of the MD/DC/VA Axis of Snow.  We got legit hammered this weekend; two feet of no-fooling blizzard (high winds and everything) is respectable by anybody’s standards. So… slow news day. All the people who’d normally be fiddling, mangling, and just making it up are going to be sitting around in sweatpants and having their lower backs remind them that we are none of us as young as we used to be.

Written by in: Not-politics | Tags:

1 Comment

  • Mikey NTH says:

    Since there will be no news from Dizzy City, then why not a little bit of National Geographic of some sort of anthropological variety found at the local coffee “grab your cup and go”?
    Talking about the middle aged male, which is a common sighting. There is the middle aged male that has gone into a stage that was once called the “mid life crisis” but that is much more rare as those demonstrations of defiance were tamped down. Those did not go away, though, they evolved; the mid-life crisis becoming the “honey badger age.”
    The honey badger is an African animal that is small, powerful, and relentless.
    The honey badger does not give a shit.
    Middle age is the “honey badger” stage of the human male life cycle. He has done what he can do to acquire status. He is now at the apex of life. He looks around and says “It’s all fast sledding from here on down,” looks over his disintegrating body, maybe his disintegrating personal relationships – and says “f*** it; I’m going honey badger.”
    At this point the middle aged man truly ceases to give a shit. This is the point the “mid-life crisis” occurs. Traditionally this would involve speedboats or sports cars. Thankfully, there are plenty of reliable used high speed cars available for only a few thousand dollars these days and the same with boats. The honey badger male does not need to go bankrupt or mortgage his ass into his eighties to get his hands on reliable, young female attracting, high octane death. Society may consider this a step forward.
    Now that he has a boat whose trailer has more wheels than Air Force One’s landing gear, you may ask “What does the honey badger male wear?”
    What ever she says. And “she” is that twenty year old human female lamprey that has found the honey badger male and latched on. You see, the honey badger – the animal – shrugs off hits by cobras. It ignores swarms of African bees. The honey badger keeps plugging along. Having a parasite sucking all of the life forces out of its body would be something the honey badger would call “what?” or “oh yeah that – I got an appointment Saturday for that.”
    The human male honey badger is not so fortunate. He has to divest himself of the human lampreys on a regular basis. Yes, he may feel pangs of loss that the twenty year old that he has been holding on to to keep his sense of (you know what) together is gone, but he can always reassure himself – if he keeps his checking account well-provided for he can always run his love life like a nightclub’s coat check room.
    Because that is what a honey badger does.
    (I was just kidding with this – I like writing fiction for fun.)

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Site by Neil Stevens | Theme by TheBuckmaker.com