I did this graphic at a few weeks ago work for a lady who hated it. She wanted eagles and flags and towers and stained glass and rockets! When she vetoed it, I decided to keep it, and I had some stickers made, too. I forwarded this graphic around (in fact, Mitch posted it on his blog before I did) today to people I thought might appreciate it, and got back some great responses, many of which made me happy, which is quite an achievement on 9/11. There are seven stars in it because there were three buildings (sort of, I don't want to argue about it) and four planes involved. Also, I am drawn to prime numbers in my designs.
I know two people who have birthdays today, so happy birthday to Brett and Lo. Lo is 19 and unsullied by nature's baser concerns, and Brett was in the Navy when 9/11/01 happened - you should ask him about it sometime.
There was a brief discussion in my shop today about the appropriateness of getting burgers from Fat Mo's on this day, since Mo is Mohammed - but this conversation was very short, and no one got a chance to embarrass themselves. The burgers are phenomenal, by the way. And huge. Ridiculously huge. Eating them is a deadly sin in two religions, I believe. Maybe three. Okay, four. Shit.
After my last post, the one about my foot, my entire household was brought low by what I have begun to think of as THE GERM, which got explosively passed from my daughter to my son to me to my wife, who did seven loads of laundry over the weekend, courtesy of THE GERM. And I had to miss work Monday because of it; be careful what you bloody well wish for, I suppose. I have painkillers for my foot now, which apparently make me easier to work with. I was in my home from Friday night through to 11:30 last night, the first time I have ever been inside that long that C can remember. I got out more in '96 when I broke my leg. Hell, I took the leg to parties. Evan wrecked my wheelchair, as I recall. Anyway, I sit here sipping an apple juice and diet ginger ale, which is one of those drinks I don't think people realize is so tasty until they spend a weekend with sick children. Thanks to Peggy for the emergency chicken soup / ginger ale rations drop off, too. And for not entering the plague den.
It is now my duty to encourage you to go and watch the new Iron Man trailer. And to field doubts from the ever-vigilant Mr. Knepper.