A Bob Hope Moment

It rained here in Swellsville yesterday. A lot. Torrents as a matter of fact, making my choice of the house at the top of the hill seem almost prescient and smart.

But let's not kid ourselves. I could afford Paramour with its creaky beams, doubtful wiring and iffy windows. Real houses are for real incomes.

Whomever sneaks into the neighborhood in the early morning to drop the paper off at the farthest point from the front door but still on the property did so in the rain yesterday. I can sympathize. However, I can't match their skill set a positioning the open bag covering the paper perfectly so as to suck all the water flowing down the driveway into the maw of the thing. It was a perfect storm resulting in a paper more akin to a Bounty commercial.

I picked the bag up looking for the pet goldfish that came as a premium with my subscription.

I don't want to say it was wet, but I read the front page and the editorials at the same time.

It wasn't the Wall Street Journal, it was an instant papier mache kit dropped at my doorstep.

If I had my own tv special aimed at the Geritol set, this might actually have been funny. Thanks for sharing.

Bunny on.