There have been plenty of jokes about hippies this week; I’ve let a couple go myself. Sure, they’re funny, and it’s easy — like of like picking on that kid who looked so different in grade school. But there seems to be a lot of genuine anger towards the protesters here for the G-20 Summit… Read More let the fun begin.
Monday started great. After not getting enough sleep, Mrs. Crappy abruptly charged into the bedroom, told me to wake up, put on my glasses and check on the birdbath we had been using as a bird feeder for a few weeks. And I stumbled over to one of the back windows just in time to… Read More aw, rats.
Sunday wasn’t the best of nights. I would have been dragging anyway, thanks to the Philly trip, but I was feeling crappy all weekend, and feeling worse at work. We also had the newsroom’s first random power outage of the spring; we were down for only 90 minutes or so, but that was enough to… Read More perks.
It was just a house fire, reported around 10:30 p.m. Sunday. An old place in a little tiny section of Armstrong County called Boggsville, a hamlet not big enough to make it on maps of the Pittsburgh area. The old Victorian’s residents made it out without serious injury, so the fire wasn’t remarkable enough that… Read More ashes.
A bit later today, I’ll find out whether my butt can cash a check my big mouth wrote a couple of months ago. I’ve already taken you through the details of how Iron Chef Point Breeze came to be; today is the big day. I have two pounds of luscious jumbo lump crab meat in… Read More chef crappy.
Juan is OK. Those of you who don’t know Juan are like: “Who?” Those of you who know Juan but don’t know what happened Saturday are like: “Well, duh.” Those of you who know Juan and know what happened Saturday are like: “Whew.” Here’s what happened Saturday: A fire roared through the building in Grandview… Read More juan.
Uncle Crappy 