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Since the post immediately below is of a somewhat juvenile nature, let Ol’ Uncle Robbo balance things out a bit by offering a double-knock this evening.

I just finished re-reading Thackeray’s Vanity Fair for, I believe, the third time.  I’ve enjoyed it more and more each time, not so much for the Dobbins/Amelia plot which I find tarsome, but for the other major thread.

So, Gentlemen, if given a “choice” (if you know what I mean, and I think you do), which Brit literary femme fatale would you go with:  Rebecca Sharp, Brenda Last, or Pamela Widmerpool?

(Ladies, feel free to weigh in on these three, too!)

Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Is today National Booger Day, or something?  Did Ol’ Robbo just not get the memo?  Because I observed a noteworthy number of both men and women surreptitiously picking their noses (and, er, worse) while behind the wheel this evening.

Ladies and Gentlemen, for the umpteenth time, do not assume that you can’t be seen while driving your car.  Because you can.

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