Flush the pit, please
Another trivial evening, with a small team; we tied for third, which is about as good as can be hoped for. The teams are getting stronger, over time, and the questions fall outside my range of knowledge. Am I getting too old for the game? I’d love to bring in some Trivial Pursuit cards and see how well the kids would do with stuff that is, I admit, from before their time.
It doesn’t matter, really. I’m home now, and the day was as “melting” as expected. I will check the sump hole before bedtime, and with most of the heavy snow cover gone, I should be safe for another season. My view of “safe” continues to evolve, with age.
Tradition means a lot, to our military. So much so that the Navy has refused to name some new ships after land battles. I can go along with that. How else do you get impressionable youth to enlist for a tour in a tin can?
I have learned that imported shrimp might contain “super bugs”. How ironic. What else is a shrimp but a super bug? In this case, they’re looking at things from a medical point of view, as the majority of our bagged shrimp come in from India, where they are farmed in veritable cesspools. I had this image of ships on the high sea, spreading their nets and taking home their catch. In the real world, that isn’t economical. You put in a big pit and you flush it from time to time (like a toilet). The bugs grow and end up in a salad bar near you. Delicious, I guess.
