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I gots nuthin' this morning, other than a feelin' o' dread.  There's nuthin' o' note from the Usual USAF Source and the Usual Source o' political cartoons and conservative screeds I never read looks pretty lame today, too.  I have just begun making the blog rounds (my lil version o' back fence gossip) and I don't see anything there... so far... that tickles my fancy or feeds the Muse.  

But I DO have a feelin' o' dread.  There was a lil "sorry we missed you" slip o' paper in the mailbox yesterday informing me that a uniformed agent o' the Federal Gub'mint had attempted to deliver a certified letter yesterday morning, with the "return receipt" box checked.  That cannot be good, NUTHIN' good ever comes by certified mail with the return receipt box checked.  NOT. A. THANG... unless some long-lost relative died and read me into their will.  I sincerely doubt that happened, but ya never know.

But... dread.  Now I have to get cleaned up and run down to the post office and then out to Cannon Airplane Patch to pick up this month's meds and more beer.  I may or may not buy some single malt, too.  Depending.