First of all, it really pays off to report your neighbors for code violations. Guess who mowed their lawn this morning! Yee-ha! The bozo next door got started before 9 a.m. — a little too early for my taste — but I’m not complaining because his yard finally looks normal.
For exercise this afternoon I spent an hour at Central Market, the best grocery store on earth, shopping for a carload of fun food. This included chicken quesadillas for Sam, a large hunk of jack cheese made with Hatch chilies, a fresh sliced challah, hummos, grilled pita bread and several big bags of interesting crunchy things. The total bill was less than $50, which is a testament to my remarkable self-control because I usually spend at least twice that much. Below are two views of Central Market, one from the outside and one from the inside. They have an amazing bakery but it’s the deli that could bring you to tears.
According to the Howdygram’s visitor statistics — which Sam and I review daily — somebody from Manchester, England, discovered my blog this morning after Googling “which English king died on the toilet.” I am, as always, dumbfounded, flummoxed and flabbergasted, because to my knowledge I’ve never written anything on the subject of royal toilets and morbidity. I guess that means I’m overdue. Therefore, I’m pleased to report that George II of Great Britain is the English king in question since he reportedly died on the toilet at 7:15 a.m. on October 25, 1760. According to an eyewitness, the king woke up at 6 a.m., drank hot chocolate, went into his little pee-pee closet and dropped dead at 7:15 from an apparent heart attack.*
What any of this has to do with the Howdygram, however, is beyond my comprehension.
And now it’s time for a late dinner. I’m loaded with leftover Chinese food or I might sneak one of of the quesadillas I bought for Sam. (Ssshh.) Thank you for reading this.
*Gracias to Wikipedia.
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