DEMON WIND PIGGIES

TWO HUNDRED AND ONE, people. No, not my weight, darlings~my post. Geez, you're tactless. And yes, I know. The celebration loses some of it's excitement when the numbers don't end in 'double aught.' Which reminds me of the class of 2000 and how, when they had to cheer their numbers at high school assemblies, they came up with the uninspired, "DOUBLE AUGHT, DOUBLE AUGHT, DOUBLE, DOUBLE, DOUBLE AUGHT!"

"When did YOU graduate, Granddaddy?"

"Double aught."

"Huh?"

So yeah, they may have been gifted with the uber cool 'CLASS OF 2000' millenia awesomeness, but stunk it up bad with their class cheer.

The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.

And speaking of taking away, the damm hurricane winds came in last night and popped the heads off my rose blooms like they were thumbing Mentos out of the package. And I don't know about you, but as far as I can tell, just like evil spirits inhabiting the bodies of wild pigs, wind has no reason to live. WIND is a terrorist, friends. A cowardly towel headed terrorist~waiting until the darkest hours, coming out in the pitch black of the night and blowing things to smithereens while the victims lay bug-eyed in their beds, sensing death and destruction await them in the morning light.

And it's not like torrential rain, that actually brings nourishment in the wake of it's rule. Or the baking, blistering sun that may crack the earth, but also sends rays of hope, vitamin D and sun streaked tresses. Or the blizzarding snow, that has no sense of social cues and often overstays it's welcome~but brings along with it shimmering white crystals and life sustaining juices. See, all of these have purpose under the Heavens. But wind? Nothin'.

Big.

fat.

double.

aught.

All that's left to do is wait impatiently for Wind to run screaming and squealing over the sharp cliffs to the rushing waters below, ending their crappy hog lives in a blaze of glory. Like Thelma and Louise.

Die, little demon wind piggies, die.