It is a little before 4:30 am. It is a good thing that I love my daughter because not only am I sleep deprived she has chosen to share her food with me, after it was digested. Yes, she has the flu. Her doc says that if she is not ralphing every hour we shouldn’t worrry about dehydration.
That doesn’t totally prevent the worrying, but it makes it easier. What it doesn’t make easier is the loss of sleep and the projectile vomiting. Her mother and I have a system for sharing the responsibilities, but the little girl’s stomach has thrown the system out of wack as has her big brother.
In the wee hours of the morning my voice rumbles, I am not Barry White, nor am I quite Isaac Hayes. But it is deep enough to be the baritone in the Barbershop Quartet. More importantly I am tired enough to think that it actually sounds good.
One of my favorite Bruce Willis movies is the The Last Boyscout. I am too tired to recite the whole thing here, but I feel like I need to dance a jig. If you saw the movie you might understand what I am talking about, or maybe not.
The Guardian has given a terrorist a ton of space to publish propaganda, just lies and rubbish.
“Do policymakers in Washington and Europe ever feel ashamed of their scandalous double standards? Before and since the Palestinian elections in January, they have continually insisted that Hamas comply with certain demands. They want us to recognise Israel, call off our resistance, and commit ourselves to whatever deals Israel and the Palestinian leadership reached in the past.”
Can you imagine the nerve of asking that Hamas recognize Israel, that they amend their murderous charter, that they act as a responsible gov’t entity and abide by prior agreements that were signed off on by both parties.
You can color this anyway you want, but the tiger hasn’t changed its stripes. Hamas wants blood and in my sleep deprived state I am inclined to offer it to them, only make it their own.
I still don’t like the Sound of Music. The whole Von I am Trapped watching this stupid flick can go rot.