Pax Nortona – A Blog by Joel Sax
From the Land of the Lost Blunderbuss
Month: February 2004
It’s my birthday….
Posted on February 15, 2004 in Quizzes
So I can post all the pointless quizzes and silly pictures I want!
Happy Birthday Joel
Posted on February 15, 2004 in Milestones
Happy birthday to the dear husband who loves the pilgrim soul in me!
Crazy Tracy Goes and Comes Back
Posted on February 15, 2004 in Blogging Milestones
What can I say? Welcome back, Tracy. Come and go as you please. It’s your life, dear.
Valentine for Lynn
Posted on February 14, 2004 in Poems
It's a damn fine thing that I'm not a deer who has
antlers that get caught in the low boughs of
oak trees;
We must urgently go to war against Terriers
Posted on February 13, 2004 in War War on Terrier
I have spoken to Condoleezza Rice in the bathtub last week, re-confirming all this.
Goodbye Crazy Tracy
Posted on February 13, 2004 in Blogging Milestones
Goodbye, hon. Follow your pen. It’s the way to the heart.
March 4: Books not Bombs
Posted on February 13, 2004 in Appeals and Goodwill Occupation of Iraq
One year into the Quagmire, the young people of our country are rising in opposition to the policies of this youth-hostile administration and the Quisling-run schools that they attend.
They’ve Always Got to Find a Penis
Posted on February 13, 2004 in Campaign 2004 Journalists & Pundits
Those who have read my comments on Kerry lately might believe that I would be delighted to hear the news. Frankly, I think this calls for a massive yawn.
Overheard on Undernet #political 2
Posted on February 12, 2004 in IRC/Chat Partnership
One of IRC chat’s lower moments followed immediately by one of its choicest — if unbearably obvious — retorts, I think.
The Drum Beat
Posted on February 12, 2004 in Blogging Campaign 2004 Liberals & Progressives War
When I look over Drum’s commentary on the war and Kerry’s let-Bush-have-his-way-votes, I find ample room for embarassment in both matters.
Homo Sapiens at Whiting Ranch
Posted on February 12, 2004 in Biomes Neighborhood
The only sound I heard was the wind tumbling off the mountain, hustling through the chaparral, and rushing through the arroyos and the gleaming industrial park at the mouth of the canyon to make a date with the ocean.
