Light to none blogging today. Mrs. G has taken control of the big set to do our taxes, and mini-Hal's air card is dealing with a one-bar tower here in town. Slower'n molasses/50-weight in January. I actually called AT&T about it, and the tech brought up our tower and said it was possibly the weakest one in their whole system. Figures.
Anyway, I got a short window while Days Of Our Lives is on.
It's funny, but when me'n Mrs. G got hitched, we lived in an older house that had a bathroom so small that it wouldn't be acceptable in a travel trailer today. I used to think marital happiness was having two bathrooms. Now it's two TVs and two computers. Heh.
It's always been two motorcycles.
Just as a closer, I figured out how to deal with Somalia.
First, since Somalia has the longest coastline of any nation in Africa, find every landing craft and catering truck on the planet. Assemble catering trucks to landing craft and position them just offshore of Somalia up around the tip of the HOA under the protection of the warships of all the nations affected by piracy and tell the Ethiopian and Kenyan armies that there'll be a shore lunch as soon as they can get there. Invite Eritrea and Djibouti too. And bring yer families!
Alternatively, I have a 'two birds with one stone' approach: offer the food to the Somalians and serve it on the landing craft. As soon as they're all chowin' down, back all the boats off the beach and keep going. Let 'em all disembark in Iran. That oughta get 'em to the negotiating table! Heh.
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