Nice thunderstorms last night. I wish I could say I’d gone out and tried to take some pictures of lightning, but by the time the light-show started, I was comfortably at home, digesting my dinner. No metal-detector searching for the corners for my lot, either. My cow-orker forgot to bring it in to work. No hurry though, since the contractor says he’ll probably be back on Friday with some sample blocks for the retaining wall and patio, and I really don’t have to know where the property line is until they start digging.
And I think that’s about it for this morning. As near as I can figure from the conflicting weather forecasts, there’s going to be more rain this week (even if they don’t agree when it’s coming), so there won’t be any fascinating tales of yard work. I guess I’ll just have to do my best to come up with something else to bore you with.
- Patrick Moore, founder of Greenpeace, makes the case for Going Nuclear. Maybe one day it will become politically possible to build new nuclear plants in the US. I don’t think it’ll be anytime soon, but Moore’s article gives me some hope. [vowe]
- In V for Vulgar Dan has the first negative review I’ve seen of V for Vendetta. I’m keeping an open mind, and am still somewhat optimistic. Since I decided to wait for the DVD, I figure even if it sucks, I’ll be watching it at home, and can always have a beer. But I did watch C for Cookie.
People should not be afraid of cookie. Cookie should be afraid of people.[flutterby]
- In a small fit of sanity from the Republican party, Newt Gingrich warns Republicans Americans want change and are tired of pork.
We were sent here to reform Washington, not to be co-opted by Washington.And you’ll be sent home, at the rate you’re going. [instapundit]
- An English pub sets up in-house tattoo parlour, which makes me think that there are going to be more than a few patrons bringing home something they’ll regret more than a hangover. Used to be you’d have to go to Tijuana to exercise such bad judgement, but now you can do it in the comfort of your neighborhood boozer. And as Rich points out, you don’t want to get a tattoo where you’ll be sagging later in life. At least the robot bartender that makes jokes probably won’t give you grief about your newly acquired tramp stamp (which are apparently known as slag tags elsewhere in the world). Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate good artwork. It’s just that I somehow suspect that throwing beer into the mix is going to lead to some unwise decisions. [fark! and jim]