My Brain May Very Well Short Circuit

As the title of this post suggests my neurons are firing rather erratically this week. Here is but a sample of the jumbled mess bouncing around my skull.

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Most of y'all know I work at the post office. i do maintenance on the machines that sort your mail. From letters, to the big flat envelopes, to packages. Nearly every piece of mail is sorted via automated equipment these days and it is my job to do the daily and breakdown maintenance on these machines. Often I find mail pieces that happened to fall into the wrong place and sometimes this mail is damaged. Earlier this week I found such a piece, a trade magazine called FN which stands for footwear news.

Normally I place this mail in the area to be repaired without a second thought but this particular mag caught my eye. Okay, It caught my eye because every single show model pictured had on a low-cut shirt. These models also happened to be very well endowed. Which got me to thinking is it really smart to avert all of the attention to the upper half of these women when what you are selling is strapped to their feet?

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Speaking of feet. My 7 year old was walking on top of a frozen snow drift earlier this week and suddenly proclaimed, "Look I'm just like Jesus! I can walk on water."

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Here we are on the eve of Super Bowl Eve and I am already in a frenzy of anticipation. My beloved New Orleans Saints are finally in it and in a sign of my sickness I have been having dreams at night about the big game. I tried to watch the NFC conference game stone-cold sober and nearly stroked out. For the Superbowl I plan to walk the fine line between drunk and incoherent. If I go to far over the line I may not have my full capacities and miss something, but too far on this side and y'all will be sending flowers to my funeral. I'd hate to see what my blood pressure will be like around 6 PM Sunday.

Can I get a WHO DAT?

Even if you have nothing to add via the comments please drop in and offer a WHO DAT or Geaux Saints to let me know you are there.

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Diehard. I've used this term to describe my fan-dom before but suddenly it strikes me as a weird description. I think I will use the term devoted from now on. Cockroaches, wild boars, and unfullfilled dreams. Those are things I would describe as diehard beings.

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Speaking of death. I still wonder if you have a pre-bought funeral plot and you walk on it can you make yourself shiver?

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And I'm a little late with this one for the blog (you should be on my twitter or facebook list and you would have seen it in a timely fashion) but who decided a groundhog and his shadow were good barometers of the future? Had to be some drunk redneck. Anybody other Nostradamus would have used a crystal ball, tea leaves, or tarot cards. heck if a Magic 8 ball is better than a fat rodent.

Again I say ... Can I get a WHO DAT!