You don't want to know about my day, but I'll tell you about it anyway. Down in the basement, refinishing doors, oh joy.
Spending the afternoon breathing in paint-stripper fumes has rendered me stupid, and incapable of blogging (not that that's ever stopped me before).
I came up for air and turned on the TV and there were Tucker Carlson, etc., on Crossfire, yakking about telemarketers and the recent court decision overturning the Don't Call list or whatever it's called.
Which reminded me of a piece Carlson wrote for The Weekly Standard on the topic. Fortunately it's available in the archives, and I bid you go read it now.
It's short and sweet, and more importantly, much funnier than anything I'm likely to come up with tonight.
I wonder if inhaling paint fumes would somehow neutralize the paint-stripper . . .