Anonymous Communist

Since May 1, 2003, the day the Iraq War was declared won, there have been approximately 3,924 U.S. soldiers and Marines killed in Iraq.

What, exactly, has that accomplished?

There.

It went entirely too fast, but it was relaxing for the most part. We didn’t go anywhere; just chilling out at home without having to deal with the stresses of work and school is my favorite kind of vacation.

Took some unintentional time away from the ol’ Web log, too. Looks like I missed quite the shitstorm. You know you must be lame when the Illinois Times makes fun of you. It’s like being part of whatever ethnic group the Irish look down upon.

No matter… I plan to be back on my regularly scheduled irregular blogging schedule soon. Fully clothed, too.

Suck on this, Sam:

The Girl, talking to The Boy:

“Do you like playing with the dreidel? Would you like one for Christmas?”

I know there are only 11 days until Thanksgiving, but it still feels weird seeing Christmas commercials on TV already.

There are spots for “Fred Claus,” and the loathsome “every kiss begins with Kay” ads have begun their yearly aggravation as well as many others that use eighth-note sleigh bells underneath. And they all still make me crinkle my face in disbelief.

Maybe it has to do with this:

It’s really hard to get in the Christmas mood in the first place. But it’s even harder when the weather outside is delightful rather than frighful.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

And it kinda creeps me out, to be honest.

Apparently, someone was skulking about my front door Friday morning while I was at the exercise facility. I didn’t notice the shenanigans when I got home, but when I met The Boy (not pictured) at his bus he wanted to know why there was a plastic Jack O’Lantern on the porch.

Said Jack O’Lantern came with the above “Boo” sign and and an instruction sheet. Apparently, I am to reciprocate to two neighbors who haven’t a “Boo” sign within 24 hours “to see how far it spreads by Halloween.” Well, I have stuff to do this weekend. Besides, there are still two-plus weeks until Halloween. Can’t it wait, or will some horrible tragedy befall me and mine because I’ve broken the chain?

Oh, well… at least the Irish Pumpkin was filled with a fuckton shitload lot of candy, which partially atones for the fact that someone was messing with my shit without my knowledge. I mean, what better way to get someone to temporarily cast aside his natural distrustful nature is there than candy?

Crap.

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve never been able to sleep the night before the first day of school. I went to bed Monday night during the late 11s, and now it’s the early 1s.

The kids don’t actually go back until Thursday and the teachers until Wednesday, but Mrs. Communist is heading back a day early to meet with the other members of her team to discuss the plan of attack for the upcoming year.

Which means I have to start getting up early again. At least for the next couple of days it won’t be until 9 a.m. But starting Thursday morning, I’m going to be one sleep-deprived emmeffer for the next nine months. Let me take you through an average school day from last year to illustrate:

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I really don’t like August. It’s the armpit of the summer months. It’s been hot for long enough that I’m really getting sick of the heat, yet the cooler weather won’t arrive for another two months.

It’s the summer equivalent of February.

(Reuters photo)

Rest assured that Toby Keith is writing several anti-steam-pipe songs so that we never forget 7/18.