Tee-Vee.

I'm listening to W praise the prospects that alternative energy holds.

This means I have 120 channels in my room now. This is a dangerous thing.

Last week, I was crippled by the "Now what?" The only solution for this syndrome is a combination of ice cream, time travel, and irrational irritability. My time traveling destination was split between 1997 (VIA VHS copies of 'Friends') and 1984 (VIA the Summer Olympic Women's Gymnastic competition).

If needed, you can simulate the experience below.



Now I TiVO every episode of 'Murphy Brown' while I wait for Bushie-poo to say 'composting toilet.' Preferably, "composting toilets pave the path toward economic prosperity and national security, along with the protection of family values."

He hasn't said it yet. But he will.

Dr. T, Medicine Man will be visiting The County soon to study Northern Maine dialects. This makes me feel less unemployed, since I can now justify my compulsive reading of Mark Abley's 'Spoken Here' by referring to it as "research". I will be his assistant. I will carry a pocket-sized notepad. I will make sure my hair smells nice.

I now have an answer to the "Now What?" Just in case, I have plans to conduct mass mailings to the Commander in Chief regarding the virtues of compost toilets. This is the backup plan. No pun intended.