First of all, I have sent an angry email to Sergey and Larry, the Google founders, asking...no demanding, that they use all their power as the head Googlians, to discover why yesterday's post was published twice. It made it seem as though I was loopy or something and led concerned readers to advise me to get some sleep.
In addition, in the last paragraph of said post, some cyber-gremlin removed words and letters and inserted words where they weren't needed, leaving the readers to assume that I was whacked out on pain pills. I expect Google's interim report shortly.
The entire Sneed clan was over this morning, including Cletus Sneed, who apparently is seeking to regain some place in the family.
One of the few things more powerful than modern antibiotics for curing a sick Grandfather is a handmade card from a four-year-old. Young Aiden Sneed labored long and hard creating this masterpiece for me. When I read it, I instantly felt a whole lot better. Isn't it cute?
How does a cranky old guy get so lucky?
The lovely Mrs. Sneed is in the midst of Christmas decorating. We have a nearly ten foot pre-lit artificial tree. When I assemble it and plugged it in, there were two bands of darkness among the eight hundred fifty twinkling lights. I messed with the malfunctioning strands, but made no progress toward their repair. Luckily Daughter Sneed's soon-to-be-husband, Greg, worked on it this morning and was able restore the tree to it's full brilliance. What a guy!
I seem to be gaining the upper hand on this sickness business. I have to go to my regular doctor tomorrow and to the eye doctor on Tuesday. I hope to be fully well by mid-week.
Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky