“I think our contract has been completely fulfilled,” he said, lighting a cigar.
“No. We still need more,” was the reply. Daring. They were always so daring.
“What else could you need? I helped you get rid of regulations, we made corporations human, gave you your majority, how much else can I do?”
“We need the White House.”
“I can’t make the voters more stupid than they already are.”
“We’ve been working on that.”
The devil sighed. “All right, all right. I’ll get to work on it. But you have to do your part.”
“Find somebody electable.”
It's not quite Pi Minute, here in Arizona. It's only 9.03. But since it's passed in other time zones, so it goes.
Had some pie, of course. It was really good, even without whipped cream (I have a weird relationship with fruit pies and whipped cream).
Watching Horns. It's weird, creepy, and pretty awesome.
Spent the day cleaning just the front room of Barb's mom's house. Yikes. Have to work on my writer's group critiques, but I'm not... I'll get to it.
I fell down while we were walking the dog this morning -- I took a misstep in the street and hit the pavement knees, then hands, with a jolt. I could feel myself going down as my ankle twisted. I have a scrape on my hand that stings and my knee is bruised and sore.
I think I want another slice of pie.