Best. Christmas. Gift. Ever.

The old school analog model. The new digital ones take it to another level.

I don't know about you, Gentle Reader, but I'm having trouble getting worked up about Christmas. The only enthusiasm I've felt this year came when the Spousal Unit picked out a present for a 10 year old nephew in Vermont.

It was a remote control whoopie cushion. I was overcome with jealousy as soon as I saw it. The model we got was said to have such a range of flatulent sounds that it may never make exactly the same one twice. There was an additional chip you could insert for burp sounds.

That would be just the thing to lighten up meetings, legislative committees, solemn ceremonies and religious observations. I told some Quaker F/friends that this could revolutionize Friends Meetings, both by breaking up those long periods of silence and by providing a bit of a counterpoint when someone stands up to speak.

Maybe Santa will bring me one this year. I've been pretty good. Some of the time.

Epilogue: the nephew in question got to open the gift early. I'm told he amused himself with it for two solid hours. I could do four. Easy.

LET THE SLACKING BEGIN! El Cabrero is playing hookie today so there will be no links or comments. In fact, I'm slacking so much that I scheduled this post yesterday. If anything really bad happens between now and then, please accept this blog's condolences.

GOAT ROPE ADVISORY LEVEL: HARD TO TELL AS IT IS SLACKING TOO