Oh. My. God. (a.k.a. Duck Stew)
Uh-oh. Did I just, like, blaspheme ? Not sure. Because as I walked home, luxuriating in February 2014’s final sweet, sunny Saturday, waiting for signs of God’s wrath to reign o’re me. I look towards the perfectly clear, blue-blue sky for bolts of lightening and grumbling thunder, ready to strike me suddenly and totally dead dead dead with thousands of volts of nature’s electric energy. I half expect that the pavement beneath me will suddenly tear itself asunder, and the open earth will suck me in, swallow me whole, and close in around me. Or He/She/It will take a more stealthy, insidious and silent approach, maybe bursting an important blood vessel in my brain rendering me instantaneously and completely void of life, or maybe (just for kicks and giggles) a less major one, leaving me merely vegetative, useless, costly, inert and drooling. Because I think I may have just, like, inadvertently flipped off God. Inadvertently...