It's Sunday, Dec. 28.
Food.
Sweets.
Diabetes 2 and an army of meds -- 11 every morning and some again at night. Yikes.
How old a person am I? Don't tell me.
I've gotten into two movies as a senior, so I guess there is some vague reward for this, even if we ain't exactly quite truthfully ancient and venerable yet.
Cut me open and count the rings. Tap me and make syrup. Knock on wood.
"Hello?"
no one is home
Cyclops is blinded once again
It's all Greek to me.
How's by you?
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