Tropical storm Debby has awakened the chattering mob of weather forecasters, old wives and voodoo doctors. The conjecture is thick and the forecasters are near orgasmic with the opportunity to talk about a tropical system. The Weather Channel, as usual, has coerced their personalities to stand in rain squalls, flying debris and wonder for hours on end on how much a beach will erode, or to speculate how long before someone drowns in a rip current, which will close a beach.
Me? I'm sitting with my feet hanging down. This is an annual occurence and can be fun. The comments are astounding and methodology for predictions can involve the amount of fruit born by a tree. I've reached the point I'll just make something up and see how long before it becomes common knowledge. I might as well, that's what the experts do.
In Case You've Wondered
My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.