We’re drving the sixty or so miles down to Kannapolis tonight to see The Simpsons Movie someplace a little more interesting than the neighborhood googolplex over by Wal-Mart.

Only seven shopping days left till my 43rd birthday, which will be memorable only for the fact that it means I’ve made exactly half the trek from 21 to 65. Which is, I suppose, considerably better than not making it.

I’m watching the 5:00 news, where I’m closely following the important breaking news that, after five days, Wake Forest basketball coach Skip Prosser continues to be dead. His ongoing mortality has been the subject of about three quarters of all live local news coverage since last Thursday.

It’s as if the whole news team at WXII is hovering over the corpse on the offside chance that Prosser might suddenly decide to get up and dance a little jig. If it happens, Cameron Kent will be there waiting with a camera, by God.

I just keep coming back like a bad penny hairstyle:

1982: I was a fresh-faced recent high school graduate. OK, my face wasn’t really all that fresh, and the photo was actually taken while I was still in high school…

1983: This is the only one that was issued to me as a continuing student. It just happened that 1983 was the year UNCG decided to redesign its ID cards.

1989: I returned to finish what I’d started in 1982. I succeeded this time.

2007: In which I am a graduate student…

Evil seems to befall cab 666 — driver seeks intervention:

“I think this is going to make the city look a little silly for taking it up,” George-Williams said. “Where does it stop? I don’t think the city needs to spend time getting involved in something like this.”

It’s really hard to make The Silliest Place on Earth™ look even sillier, but I agree that this is probably a good start.