Pull up. Pull up.

"Tower, Chipair 2447 declaring an emergency.  One eight miles northwest, request runway two zero.  Engine power down, difficult to maintain blogspeed."

Chipair 2447, make straight-in runway two zero.  Maintain two thousand until established on the localizer.  Winds 135 @12, barometer 29.82.  Do you need the trucks?"

"Tower,  yeah, you better roll em.  I don't know if I can keep the blog from crashing."

I am really falling down on my self-imposed schedule.  Right, big surprise there.  It's Friday here in the wasteland time zone and I haven't written any of these since Tuesday.    Aside from being a lazy bum and under unmotivated, (I know, right, big surprise eh?) I have been doing some work on the Serenity and my Wardens of the Realm campaigns, all the while trying not to troll Trumpeteers and Cruzites.  I even did a little work on a short story, which I could share as it could be #fictionFriday (my Friday, not yours), but it's in no condition to move yet.  It's still in the ER and not stable.

That leaves me with with more mindless, inane and insane village idiot ramblings.  No rubber-disk sports thingy tonight, it's the All Star break and the Bluenotes haven't played in nearly a week.  After the first half of their season and the way they've played in their past two games, the rest should probably do them good.  The season starts up again for them on Tuesday.

Another day, I started this on last Friday,  and it's now Monday.  I'm falling even further behind bloggy blog schedule.  The bitching Betty is nagging me incessantly.  

I GM'd the Serenity game yesterday, (this is a different session than the one I mentioned yesterday, timey-wimey, wibbly wobbly effects of editing and shifting the order around some).  It was a good session, I hit the players with a wicked turn of events and an equally bad plot twist.    Now, instead of be-bopping round the 'Verse' having fun, they're trying to turn into 'Big Damn Heroes' fighting for their lives and trying to prevent a catastrophic attack on a civilian population. 

The big white dog (yes, his name is still Elvis),  decided I needed to get out of bed at an ungodly 'hour.   Who knew 8 o'clock came more than once per day?   Between the gaming session, and Elvis (bet you thought I was going to do that whole Big White Dog thing again didn't you?) I've been ready for a serious nap since.

It's only taken two days, but this one is done.
Thanks for bearing with me...

See you tomorrow.