i can’t imagine how Gmail could do a poorer job of advertising to me than this. especially today:
1989? seriously? i am one hundred years old:
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you have seven hours to prepare for me, California. wait, what? seven?:
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continuing my campaign for my own @flightcaster algorithm: “probably on time,” but scheduled departure was 2:30:
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best. charity auction. ever:
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Easter Sunday and I’m at my church:
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not that I mind this time, given that the Sox are on:
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I thought Az had the best job in the world, working at RedMonk. but she can’t beat distillery cat:
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my first distllery:
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the inevitable, regrettable outcome of all of the Red Sox beat writers Twittering:
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sogrady.org 