Mortal sins committed today: gluttony, sloth, lust. Mostly sloth.
Days this weekend on which it was too damn windy to think: two.
Revelation: I could not be less interested in classic car shows if I tried. My Fourth Avenue wanderings this morning were grievously impacted by something called Fords on Fourth and its attendant crowds of guys in Oakleys and their stringy blonde girlfriends.
Delicious egg-based breakfasts consumed this weekend: zero. Step it up, people!
Number of idiotic House bills to be strangled by the Senate: all of them, I hope.
Not much of a weekend in BoltLand, apparently. The wind will do that to a body.