The One About the News

I'm going to stop following the news for a while. It's depressing hearing about poor billionaires whose companies are going out of business without a loan from the workers, I'm sick of hearing about psychopath mothers who bury their children in shallow graves a block away from their house, and the inept police force investigating the crimes. I don't care how the local sports teams are doing and could care less about what my tax dollars are doing in down town Rochester. I don't care anymore about who Obama puts in what position and I really don't care about the uproar from either side of the aisle. I don't even care who Minnesota's next senator will be. I don't care about the little old lady who has Parkinson's and voted for three candidates, nor do I care about her intent.

I rant, therefore I am.

On a lighter note, my pregnant wife is STILL sick. She throws up more than she eats, it's kind of scary. Most recently she has taken up puking into a bowl. Not such a bad idea, puke where you are, clean it up, forget about it. No need to run to a receptacle, let the receptacle come to you. No problem until you realize who has to empty the receptacle. I do my best to not add to the concoction, keeping my nose as far away as possible. I remember the good old days when her throwing up meant I had the disturbance of listening to it, until I turned the volume up on the TV. Now I have become an active participant. I will be singing the praises of the second trimester. I will rejoice and sing praise. I will dance through the streets. People will lock their doors and bring their kids out from the streets. Police will swarm, and I will be detained. But it will all be worthwhile, for the second trimester will have arrived.

Merry Christmas and God Bless!