Sunday Morning

Hope everyone is having a wonderful Memorial Day. Last night Mrs. SFC B and I went to the birthday party for one of her coworker's daughter. Had a blast, although I was the second most anglo person there. Mrs. SFC B was the most. And before she wails about how I'm obviously "whiter" than her, I'd like to point out that I am the son of an immigrant while her family had been in the US for a couple generations on her mother's side and at least three on her father's. Take that gringa.

Anyways, a good time was had. I developed a lust for a Wii, I had a six pack of Shiner, and I talked with a guy in the IRR about what he needed to bring for an IRR Muster being held in Mesa next month. This Soldier has a disability rating from the VA and was curious what he needed to bring to the muster (answer: everything related to that).

I got up this morning around 6 and took Zoe out of her plush prison (the master bathroom in a previous life). I fed the cats and the dog and then chilled out with an Astros recap. BLUF: They won again!

About this time Zoe made it quite clear that she wanted to go outside. Since it is BEAUTIFUL I figured I'd grab my camera and see what we could see.

Here is Zoe all excited about getting to go outside. That or she's a hellhound.Zoe very quickly began to tear across creation in her usual self. I tried to get a picture of her facing the camera, but she had no intention of slowing down enough to allow that to happen.

Although she did take time to smell the flowers.

She also had to check her p-mail.
And then she sent some.


Cheap joke, I know. We could have walked some more, but I wasn't exactly wearing hiking shoes... or even shoes... so there was a limit to how far I could meander.
Yes. Those are flip-flops and jeans. No. I wasn't ashamed. Although it wasn't a very long walk, it had the desired effect. The dog peed and she was left too tired to be annoying for a short while.So a good morning has been had by all.

And, if I didn't know better, I'd say this was planned. Two days after I become emotionally involved in someone's autoblography they put up a post mentioning a need for sponsorship to attend a blog conference. While I'm not a Lear jet exec and the advertising proceeds from Detailed Recruiter currently stands a $0.00, and I can't begin to describe how badly I'd get beaten for a "SFC B Rules" tattoo on some other woman's boob, I can point out the "Donate" button and use it myself. Also, there is a link for the Blogher conference where a certain blogger can get their expenses paid. Maybe a ballot-box stuffing campaign will work as just as well as having a tata tattoo'd.

I like alliteration.