OK, OK, I'm not the best blogger in the world. I'm not even a very good one. It's been so hard to post lately. It's tax season, so I've been working long hours. The Wife has been working during the days, so she has to go to meetings at night. There are things to be done here at home after work, so there's little time to blog.
Not that there haven't been things to discuss. There was the recent death of feminist blowhard Andrea Dworkin, you know, the all-sex-is-rape chick.
There's the on-going blitzkrieg to get U.S. Rep. Tom DeLay, R-Texas, for having his wife and daughter on his campaign payroll, even though such things are hardly new. Even our only Socialist congresscritter Bernie Sanders, S-Vt., gets his relatives into the act. Big honkin' deal.
There's the fight over the nomination of John Bolton to be UN ambassador. Appratently, the Dems are hoping to derail his nomination based on the fact that he once chewed out a subordinate. Stop the presses, Millie! This is what you have to fall back on when you know any substantive arguments you might make will fall flat on their faces.
No, there is plenty to write about, but it is hard, not being a professional pyjama-wearing blogger myself nor having a staff or other like-minded friends to post along with me. Nope, I'm a one-man shop, and this one man gets rather threadbare from time to time.
Now is one of those times.
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