8/2/03

It's not velour, it's dust!

2300 hours---Noticed homeland obscurity on every surface. Was it as thick and plush as the red shag carpet in my 1977 apartment? 'Fraid so. Does the enemy wish to lull us into fluffy complacency in the face of a parental visit? Must snap out of it!

0800 hours---Embarked on Operation Lysol Liberty. Was I excited? You bet! Was Rummy on hand to provide play-by-play and color? Or off trying to spin confusion from clarity?

0900 hours---Elite team of one began search for Webs of Dust Encrustion. Were they in short supply? Hardly!

1000 hours---Convoy delivering Greased Lightning, Fantastic, and Windex encountered smoke screen from evil enemy vacuum cleaner belt. Would I use my complete chemical arsenal against the enemy? Would I consider a nuclear attack? Would that be safer than Scratch and Sniff?

1100 hours---Doubt entered stage left. Could I go the distance? 24-7/11-365-409? Did I have the psychological stamina, hormonal drive, and enough trash bags? Should I expect resistance from the local sofa spud residents? Duh.

1200 hours---Sixth Texas Laundry Load unit arrived at ironing checkpoint. Did Tony Blair use spray starch on dress shirts? Could the French change recessed lightbulbs?

1500 hours---Struggled against enervating heat to move $110 of groceries from armored vehicle to mess hall. Were native males available to assist? Shirley, you joke.

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