Beats

So about two weeks ago Lucas started making rhythmic sounds with his mouth.

I asked him what he was doing and he looked up at me, and said, with a great deal of incredulity "Daddy, those are my beats. I have lots of new beats."

He's not going to be giving Biz Markie a run for his money any time soon, but it's fun none the less.

What exactly were they thinking?

It's days like this, when there is about 60cm of snow on the ground and when it's -23C (-32 with the wind chill) that I ask myself the following:

Why in the name of all things good and sacred did any of my relatives move here? Seriously. Just what the hell were they thinking? How bad were they lied to in the pamphlet?

A random thought

Good red wine really is much better than bad red wine.

That is all.

As you were.


is the bottle really done now?




wimper