Really, I’m not. That was my nice, supportive, nurturing response (you don’t want to know how I really feel about that filthy piece of shit, and every other smug, condescending, soy-latte-sipping, organic-free-range-food-eating, tree-hugging, waste of carbon). Today is the opening of Scott’s roasted pork sandwich stand, and tonight we see Carrie Underwood and Keith Urban. And the obligatory Saturday errands, like the pilgrimage to the Club of St. Sam of Walton and Meyer dairy.
Oh. And I’ll have to take a nap at some point, or I’ll never make it to the show tonight.
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