While big Sunday breakfasts shouldn’t be thought of as healthy, at least if they’re good Sunday breakfasts, somehow I’m thinking that a meal of coffee and cheesecake batter (licked from the beaters) was probably pushing the limits.

Interesting that some of my fellow immigrants are calling for a day off work to celebrate my eleventh birthday on Monday. I hope they aren’t all planning to come by for bacon bits though – I’m not sure Thumbboy bought enough for that many guests.

I can understand people getting upset when a prosecutor (temporary or otherwise) posts a personal blog entry about an ongoing trial that makes its way back to the court.  Especially if an obscenity or two makes it into the post.  It would have been a good article on the problems of lawyers blogging if the author had stuck to the issues.  But when the author adds that the attorney subsequently left his position in a private firm to “to write and compose musicals,” the point’s not only irrelevant, it comes across as a gratuitous cheap shot. Sometimes good writing is less, not more.

Haven’t been swimming much lately, and even the searing pain inflicted by my dominatrix yoga instructor this morning couldn’t take my mind off some business of law issues.  But obviously I’m a wimp and not pushing myself at yoga because I wasn’t wearing a thong like the woman in front of me was.  That pain would certainly have taken my mind off work.  No shopping in my future though – I’ll settle for being a wimp in that particular area of my life.

Now that the President’s been told that rising gas prices are a matter of national security, he’s announced he’s going to do something about the problem.  My guess is he’ll use take the same political skills and resources of his high office that he’s used on other national security issues (like the hunt for bin Laden, securing the borders and preventing unstable states like North Korea, Pakistan and Iran from obtaining nuclear weapons) and gas will be at $4.00 per gallon by Labor Day.  Tempted to say Independence Day, but given the state of utter depedence we’re in, that would just be too ironic.

Why couldn’t he have said it was an economic problem?  Then we might have a chance.

The Ancient Order of Chinese Busboys and Fortune Cookie Stuffers blessed me with the following wisdom this evening:

Your ability to help others may not be seen by all [in bed].

The gentleman across the table from me was similarly blessed with this bit of wisdom:

You will have many important meetings, visits, and chance encounters [in bed].

Taken together it sounds like we’re in for a fun time.

The neverending battle between professional responsibilities and psychological well-being spins out of control in overlapping windows.  Quicken’s alerts and PlanPlus, armed with To Do lists, spent the weekend regrouping and plotting nefarious strategies.  They seem to be engaged in some kind of counteroffensive now.  It seems they’re now trying to force Firefox, iTunes and Civ off the monitor.  Or at least into some kind of minimized status.  I think it may have something to do with being a grown-up.  Where’s Tink when I need her?  I really need Rumsfeld and his kung-fu presentation hand gestures to give this argument any credibility at all.  Maybe that alone is proof that I’m just procrastinating while the caffeination takes effect.

This weekend’s blissful absence from the Howling Point was sponsored by the letter T.  The letter T, one of the original characters in the alphabet, is represented in such fine words and phrases as Tuxedo, The Theater, Twirling (and Twirlers), Teal and Tequila Sunrise.

As long as Americans are being killed daily in Iraq, it probably makes little difference who is defending the policy each afternoon from the White House briefing room. And as long as gas prices are approaching $3 a gallon, it makes little difference whether Rove is spending more time on policy or politics.

Maybe, just maybe, the problem is the message and not the messenger.  RIP Scotty McClellan.

And while we’re here, I’ll also quibble on that “approaching $3″ line.  Three dollar gas is here and here to stay.

After my morning chlorination session yesterday I noticed the rubber eyepieces on my goggles are starting to break up.  I had actually bought some newer goggles a few months ago, but they were one of the few things the thief kept when he stole my gym bag last month.  Well, back to the point, thanks to Aquablather I know where I won’t be buying them from.

Internet: good for marketing, good for anti-marketing.