In which the middle-aged Peacenik mouths off about War Drones--and all the other things that make him cranky.

Mr Mahatma--who is a Mr in real life--lives in the valleys of Southern California with his wife, a herd of Dears, and an impressive collection of books. Pnorny!
He is reachable at:
littlemrmahatma@yahoo.com

All writings are copyrighted 2003-2008 and trademarked: Little Mr. Mahatma

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Little Mr Mahatma
 
Saturday, May 20, 2006  
Lazy Saturday
Kids are watching cartoons. Dad is blogging nothing of interest. Mom is getting car fixed and hitting the garage sales. Preakness will be on later. Cleveland will eliminate Detroit. It might rain. It might not. Maybe we'll go to the Northridge mall, or Topanga Plaza. Maybe not. Just a lazy, lazy day.


This, of course, is denial at its fullest. We have stacks of laundry and dishes to do. All rooms need to be vacuumed and dusted. The cars have an inch of dirt on them. The pool needs sweeping. The garden needs weeding, pruning, fertilizing, picking, and a variety of other verbs ending in -ing.


And it's just me. I'm feeling really lazy. No energy to do what needs to be done. But I realize this and am working up the strength to stop typing and go do something worthwhile.


OK, here I go. I am going. Yep, watch out.


Going. For real.


Going.


Gone.


9:38 AM

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