I pondered, considered, weighed the options, consulted the seer.
Thrown the bones. Sacrificed the chicken.
Man, I have done everything short of hiring a friend through the psychic network.
But I haven’t been able to come up with a signature post for my brand spankin’ newish 21st century economic-Shitstorm blogthing.
Then it came to me:
And Happy 18th to my nephew Ben! He can now drink, while casting a vote and signing up for the army – if he lives in Quebec! Woo-hoo!