For the last several years, I've dragged Betsy out to the Hilton Head Concours d'Elegance, which I now know is french for "crappy-ass car show". In past years, there's been some interesting hardware, like racing McLaren F1's, BMW M3 racecars, etc. At $20 a person, it's always been a slight ripoff, but this year took the cake.

This year, we saw more interesting vehicles outside the gates than inside. A shiny black Ford GT followed us in, and we passed a new Aston Martin AMV8 and other cool cars walking in.

Here's the product of my visit to some guy's Colbert Report On Notice board generator. Because I don't have any of my own ideas, and I just like copying Dearth, of course.

It's 8:30 PM, and I haven't showered yet. There. I said it. I'm not ashamed.

Unless you count working from midnight to 6:00 AM on Saturday, I've not accomplished a damn thing this weekend.

Just thought my adoring public would want to know.

I was appalled (yes appalled!) this morning when I opened my jumbo-sized box of Froot Loops. There, sitting on top of the hermetically sealed bag of delicious artificially sweetened O's was another sealed bag, containing the Pirates of the Caribbean Skull Strobe toy promised on the front of the box.

That's right, this country has truly gone to hell in a handbasket. No longer must Timmy and Sally White-Bread-'Merican eat their way through an entire 3 pound box of 'Loops to get their precious toy (or dump the whole box). Nope, they can just pluck the bit of plastic right off the top, and be mesmerized by sinister, flashing light of Johnny Depp's skull.

From the lovely wife on our way to dinner on Friday:

"Honey, do you have a car problem?"

Yes, I probably do. I took a perfectly good Porsche and traded it for a ridiculous 500hp BMW M5, filled with enough gadgets to occupy even Morgan for hours. Three months later, I've traded that perfectly good M5 on another BMW - a Z4 M Coupe. This car casts off any pretense of practicality by eschewing any rear doors, or seats for that matter. And it's bright red, so my next post may be dictated from my cell in the BCDC or the Chatham County Jail. Not that I speed, mind you.

We made two small out of (down)town excursions this weekend, with Betsy's dad and stepmom. Yesterday we made a visit to the Wormslow historic site. We paid our four clams a head to trundle down a mile long lane of hundred year old oaks (the brochure claims 400 of the suckers), watch a brief, poorly produced informational DNR film, browse a 'museum', then wander about the site.

We've been in the new house for a week now, and while we're all enjoying our new setting, but we don't know how long we'll stay.

Recently, strange phenomena has manifested itself. For the last four nights, we've come home to find the dogs mysteriously locked in the upstairs bedroom, and this afternoon, Blondie (admittedly the dimmer of the pair) made her way under the house. She emerged possessed by whatever demon accosted her, and has not stopped her yipping since, no matter how hard Betsy paddles her.

Clearly some supernatural force wants us gone, and will stop at nothing to accomplish its insidious goal.

Almost six months to the day after purchasing our new digs downtown in Savannah, we're finally living here. And more importantly, after four days without, we're finally back online, and getting TV and phone service. W00t, etc.

We're very excited to finally be in the house, after lots of hard work from us, my folks, and especially my brother Mark. When we've got a little more daylight, I'll post up some pics of the place.

Well, I finally went and done it. Gave up those unreliable little sports cars for a sensible, sedate sedan, with four doors and a warranty...
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...and 500 horsepower V10. Oh well. Did I mention it has four doors? I guess I'll be driving on lunch junkets more often now.

I finally decided to stop screwing around with the template for my site, and just do what I did last time - use someone else's good design. I did at least take the time to put in my own lame-ass header picture.

I spend too much time screwing around with this crap all day to come home and to it again at night. Of course, I've got to make an exception for my lovely wife whose blog already has a higher page rank than mine.