Sort of-a few months ago, before my grandmother died, when she was in the hospital, we had my grandfather over to dinner. Now, for the past year or so, he’s been obsessed with the fact that he’s no longer allowed to drive, and once he gets started on the topic, he never shuts up.
The news was on and I deliberately tried to get him worked up about Bush and current events so he’d forget the driving thing. It’s fairly easy to get him ranting about politics, and I figured better that than having to hear him bitch about driving.
Or start a nuclear war. From what I’ve seen at the Bikini Atoll and around Pripyat, nature sans humans seems to adapt pretty well with horrible radioactive contamination.
Oh yeah. Agitators. That’s what we-uns call 'em around here.
Let’s just say my husband has a few hot buttons and there’s nothing quite like the fun a bunch of drunks can have at the bar by pushing said buttons and getting Mr2U into a frothing rage. He’s the poster child for EVERYTHING rage. Every once in awhile, I get a good one going back at one of them - two of my best friends are union - Teamsters and IBEW respectively - and I will admit to a little union bashing just to get them going (only in defense of my sainted husband, though).
