by Slate Quicksilver
Current events in Quicksilver-land caused a complete lack of time to post anything of merit. I could be compelled to shell out some garbage that is completely devoid of any thought, intelligence, merit or regard for history or the present.
But instead of touching off a potential war in the sports "journalism" field, I'd rather just give you a song that will bring up the fact that will get you pumped that winter is over.
That's right people, winter's cold dead touch is has retreated back to the frozen expanse of wasteland and taiga completely empty of warmth of any kind; physical or human: Canada. Gardens will start blooming. Summer ales are brewing. Golf bags are being taken out of moth ball storage. Sandals are being removed from closets. Oh, what's that? You live in the "South"? Oh, I'm sorry that you don't understand that "seasons" "happen" "on a yearly basis." This song, this author's personal favorite of Mr. Buffett, has always been equated to warmth in my head.
We'll be back tomorrow with an actual sports related thing. But in the mean time, enjoy.
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People in the South don't know about "winter." All things considered, I don't know if that's an insult seeing as how much "winter" "sucks."
ReplyDelete--MR