It's OK to eat fish, 'cause they don't have any feelings

It occured to me that there is very little difference between grasshoppers and shrimp, biologically speaking.

Feel free to go ahead and ignore that as you enjoy your scampi this evening.

~~~~

I'm still in a bit of a funk due to a number of factors that I will not discuss here.

I toyed with the idea of simply deleting this blog, and finding some other way to fill 20-30 minutes of each day, but I was talked out of it by my favorite reader (and good real-life friend) P.

So, here we are, sort of glaring at each other across the metaphorical table, whispering heatedly through clenched teeth whilst pretending to be civil.

Unfortunately, you will have to deal with these little, infield-single posts until I get my mojo back and start hacking. On 3-0, Chuckie hacks!! (Inside joke for the 3 Brewer fans who read this.)

Now would be a good time for one of those guest blogs I have been promised by some of you talented and humorous friends of mine.

Wave? Where you at?

Jimmyboy?

In other news, I have received an invitation to ride at Bridger Bowl for the first time this weekend. My gracious host offered me a free voucher, a day of guiding me around the mountain (he's a regular)... including providing me with an avalanche transceiver and shovel, so we can hike "the Ridge."

McC... whatta guy.

Sorry, there will be no pictures of this enterprise, as me Canon is being enjoyed by a light-fingered visitor to Big Sky.

No replacement on the horizon.

I am on a fixed income, don't you know.

And I have four children to support.

OK, they're pets.

But I love 'em just the same.

Speaking of children, writing this was only slightly less painful than giving birth.