I started to type a question into Google tonight. Of course, as you start to type it tries to anticipate what your question will be.
I got as far as “When is…”
Not in this order (which might be saddest part of this) were:
When is The Bachelor on?
I could not conceivably care less – and even I know that it was yesterday. Is your life so sad, empty, and pathetic that you have to watch shows like this? And then you can’t even keep track of what day the big grand finale episode is? Gee, Mr. President…
When is the Super Bowl?
A legitimate question. Probably the first Sunday in February, but it might be the second, so all of the good Chiefs fans should check before asking for that time off.
When is Easter?
Again, a legitimate question. It moves around. There were people with ashes and Mardi Gras was a big deal about two weeks ago? -ish? (Note to self – we have GOT to get to Nawlins for Mardi Gras one of these years!) So, forty days of Lent means another month?
When is Christmas?
Really? No one could possibly ever ask a more stupid question than that!
When is the Fourth of July?
I stand corrected.