I spent most of it with several kidlets, so traumatized they were barely verbal. I put them in office chairs and spun them until I was sure (and afraid) they would puke. They never did. Just beamed at me through dark rimmed eyes and said: Moah! Moah!
So, I spun 'em over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and...
And the next time you watch a movie (westerns are great at this) where some guy beats up another guy and they are throwing each other into walls and kicking each other in the ribs and punching each other in the face and then one or both of them walk away and maybe groan a little. I'm telling you, it is bogus bullsh*t. Being beat up and kicked and punched hurts. And leaves you very, very sore and bruised and sometimes broken and dead. I am telling you this. Believe me.
Back by popular demand. More 4:
On my desk
In my charger
In my yard
In my bathroom
What I am noticing about “four” is how infrequently I notice fours (which, by the way is the only number that has the same number of letters in its name as the value of the number itself).
As I no longer live with any four-leggeds I have no current photos of hairy legs.
It is 2 times four of the clock and I am hungry for dinner...