Four.
Five.
Denizens, for your weekend we’re going to combine a little countdownage, a little cute-overloadage and a little ROFLMAO-age.
(In other words, I triple-dog-dare you to watch the following without cracking a smile.  Seriously.  I dare you.)
Laugh with me!  A-hahahahaha…!
Seven.  Six.
Eight.
Nine.
Those of you who have been with me here for a while now, know what time of year this is, know what the next holiday on the calendar is and know our current proximity thereto…probably pretty much know the meaning and ramifications of the next thing to emanate from this keyboard:
Ten.
One.
Two.
“So, Lord Venomous”, I (imagine I  ) hear you saying, “does this mean you’re back, now that you’ve actualy thrown up a couple of non-countdown posts?”
Hmmm… 
“Thrown up” is such a…double entendre  term… 
Anyway, the answer is “yes & no”.  The Big Box™ is back online, obviously, and I’m pretty much back in business on this end.  But there’s still a lot of stuff to get done, including finding a storage shed to dump about three-dozen or so boxes, hang pictures, knick-knacks & stuff – so it’s not like I have a whole lotta time to blog.
Thankfully, I have a crack blogging staff to fill in for me in my absence (hint, hint, Vicar)…
So, as always…watch this space.
Oh, and by the way…Three.
Four.
Six.
UPDATE:  Okay, make it “five”.
Eight.
UPDATE:  Seven.
…that I’ve placed Yet Another Countdown™ on the sidebar over there.
You who are the Uninitiated™ won’t have a clue.  The Denizens – knowing me and knowing what time of year this is – have already figured it out.
Ten, nine…
Those of you who have read me for any  length of time – well, you probably knew it was coming all along, didn’t you? – but you know damned well what this is.
(Go ahead.  Click it.  I effin’ dare  you.
And turn it up.  Waaaaaay  up.    )
That’s right, sportz fanz:  It’s vacation time for His Rudeness™.  And this  time, said vacation is not  going to be spent packing & moving.
Mrs. Venomous & I are going to take a trip.  And if you’re lucky, I’ll tell you where.  When I get there.  Maybe.
Vicar, General – you guys have the conn.  Y’all post, dammit! 
One.