Quick Hits

• Rusty Pipe Up Yours Award - I haven't given out one of these for a while, but this one goes out to Comcast Cable. Thanks to these rocket scientists I am just now getting back my Internet service, which has basically been out since Thursday afternoon. Dueling technicians came out to my house in the interim, each giving different assessments and each blaming the other for not fixing the problem. They should have been playing dueling banjos. It would have been more entertaining.
• I just took the subconscious racial preferences test as part of Harvard's Project Implicit. The test said that subconsciously I believe white people are better than black people. I say the test is on crack. I love myself, but as part of my personal equal opportunity policy I hate everyone else. Just kidding...or am I? Ha ha ha ha ha! Still wondering, aren't you?
• An indication that you might not be able to afford your luxury car? The pizza delivery sign on its roof. I wish that was a Jeff Foxworthy-esque joke, but the missus and I were walking our dog here in the land of fronters and headlights approached, moving slowly. As they got closer we saw that the interior dome light was also on. As the vehicle got a little closer we saw a Pizza Hut sign strapped onto the roof. And a little closer we realized the vehicle was a new(er) Lexus SUV. And no, it wasn't a teenager driving his dad's car. This dude looked to be 40ish himself. If you have to deliver fastfood to pay for your luxury car, trade that thing down for a Honda. It'll last just as long and cost 75% less.
• I am sooooo fashionable - During a little shopping excursion earlier Mrs. B wanted to stop in J. Crew (I've always hated that name. It tries too hard) for a couple of things. While she grabbed 'em, I browsed the guy stuff and to my surprise on their necktie table was a new selection of square bottomed knit ties, like those really popular in the late '80s. I never got rid of mine from middle and high school. Seriously, from critical mom, to critical buddies, to girlfriend to critical girlfriend, and finally my wife, I have refused over the years to get rid of my knits. Now they're back. I knew it. I'm cooler than the other side of the pillow.
• In case you were wondering, ever since I called out my cornhole neighbor from down the block who let his rat terrier poop on the swale in front of my house and didn't pick it up, there has not been one dropping on my grass. Coincidence? I think not.