SINGLE THOUGHT ON A VERY SLOW SATURDAY
After a week that left a quantum deal to be desired, I actually slept all day and, when I woke, the weather had changed to autumn and, after the raw heat of the previous day, the transformation was not a moment too soon. But, before I fell into my ten hour near-coma, a thought slow-danced through a mind that was attempting to blank itself out for its own protection, or at least lose itself in contemplation of sex, drugs, or vintage rock & roll. It came in the form of a question I’d dearly love to pose to George W. Bush...
"Yo, Georgie, I was just sitting here wondering if you’d install some incompetent, numbskull rich-boy halfwit or woman-of-no-importance to head up your own Secret Service detail, or to pilot Air Force One. No? Of course not. Dumb question, right? Then pray tell me Mr. President, how come you make such appointments to FEMA, Homeland Security, the United Nations and the Supreme Court, where my safety and that of the rest of the world hangs in the fucking balance?"

RELATED GAME
Sent over by Bill although I have managed nothing better than a zero score.
http://www.imgag.com/product/full/ap/3067907/graphic1.swf

UNRELATED GAME
http://www.bunnysneezes.net/page16.html
This ingenious, creative and non-competitive, gothic, virtual paper-doll game comes from a new friend Miss Templeton whose weblog, although nominally dedicated to Irish rock & roll and (seemingly) the consumption of alcohol, currently contains nice remarks about me, a shared affection for Wednesday Addams, and fine picture of Elvis getting drunk.
http://horslipsmusic.blogspot.com/

The secret word is October

CRYPTIQUE – Am I sure Hank done it this way?