Even after all these years I still want to put “And The Feed” at the ends of the headlines. Some habits are hard to break.
Anyway, roof. We are getting the boring brown 25 year shingles that are rated to 120 MPH wind gusts, the roofer said the existing shingles looked to only be rated for 70-90 MPH gusts given the number that were missing and the distance the house was from the center of the tornado track. I need to go to the bank and find out why Mrs. the Poet’s debit card was declined for $140 of groceries with a $3700 balance the day before and also transfer the money for the roof from the firewalled account into the spendable account. I always put large sums of money into an account that is only accessible by going to the bank and moving it to an account I can write a check or use my card to get to. Until I make it accessible I can’t accidentally spend it on things like comic books or massages, because believe me if I had the money I would be getting a massage every other day at least. Besides just feeling good, which is enough in and of itself, massage is the only thing so far that has had any kind of lasting effect on the pain caused by Arthur Dent. And for those who have forgotten I give all my pains in the neck names if their parents haven’t already done that. And Arthur Dent is the divot on the back of my neck left by the removal of the huge lipoma that is shown in a specimen cup at the top of my Facebook page. But anyway, trip to the bank for fixing Mrs. the Poet’s account and transferring the roof money from the safe account to the account I can spend money from.
And the still “Not-Rich”? I only matched 2 out of 6 numbers on the Lotto, so I be po’ or p’r as in can’t afford a vowel.
Witch on a Bicycle 