Oh Lighten Up, Lasagna Breath

The Garfield ™ generator linked below has been apparently shut down.
Dig:
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This Sunday in Lisbon — responding to to the England v. France game– the fuzz’s message to would-be English hooligans:
it’s safe to toke up. Drunks, however, may be denied entry to the stadium.

Also:

Rember, guys, how I asked you about the other meaning of the word “compromise”?

"I hate to say this, but I quite frankly felt that these officers had compromised their position. I remember thinking, ?I cannot believe we are standing underneath a tree and we cannot see if this guy has a weapon pointed at us.? "

So there. See? I don’t always just make stuff up. That was from a story about cops tasering a treed burglary suspect. His accomplice claimed that:
"He inherited the property from his grandfather, the "famous investor, Merrill Lynch."
He said he and [the tasered guy] were there to dig up gold and silver buried by his grandfather.
Detectives noted, however, that Merrill Lynch isn?t a person. Instead, it is an investment firm formed in 1915 by Charles Merrill and Edmund Lynch.

And to think I probably would have fallen for that line…

Some more photos online. Not really relevant to this Blog, so I put them here.

Torsten is the frenetic, witty, sometimes juvenile, ex-trumpeter who runs Sp?t Schicht, a Sp?tshop on Bischoffsweg, roughly across the street from Cafe Ole.

Therefore, it goes without saying that he mostly greets me with a few banal conversational English tidbits (though he doesn’t speak English) before bringing up whatever manure my country has been tramping around in most recently.

A fave theme of his is the (translated) works of a Mr. Moore.

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Garfield random panel sequence generator.

It is funny.

Octogenarian builds ghost town.

"And that's pretty nice in this day of high tech games and short attention spans."

It’s good have a little scratch again. I went out and got some rechargeable batteries for my {{popup guenther.jpg guenther 384×288}}digital camera.

They are being treated, as I never was, like toys a rich kid got for Christmas.

Who wrote that? Dresden’s most notable American former guest. No, not Lord Bishop. This dude.

You’d live in a cave–albeit with a modem to read my blog–to not know by now that Ronnie Raygun has gone off to the big Bedtime for Bonzo in the sky.

Aside from all this and that, I must admit I feel sadness. As a wee little child, Reagan was for me the next best thing to Superman. So strong, so charming, so good looking. As a grownup, I later learned other stuff, like this bit from a certain Hitchens.

But this blog is not the place to pass judgement. I do try very hard to keep this area clear of my own opinions. But as you mighta guessed, I am a fan of syncronicity and almanacs and the like. So instead here is what happened this weekend.

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Over the weekend, the guys in blue overalls changed the doors. Then they changed the locks. On Monday, we couldn’t get in. Possibly, that could happen again Tuesday and Wednesday. UPDATE:
The lovely Miss Scheel informs me that:
lt. Herr K?hne ist das Schloss in D?R-274 wieder entfernt, sodass der Unterricht
in diesem Raum wieder gew?hrleistet ist. So there you go.
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