Shooting at my feet

I hate this feeling of being in an old spaghetti western where the faceless bad guys are shooting at my feet trying to make me dance. I don't really like to dance and if there are bullets flying at my feet, the odds are very much in favor of those bullets striking my dancing feet while they're moving. So I think I will just call their bluff and stop...and glare....at the cowboy.

In the meantime, while I am waiting to see how that whole glaring thing plays out, I grabbed the audio of one of my textbooks for class and burned it on my MP3 so I can walk this weekend, and work in my yard, and do homework. Maybe there is some hope for this sudo-geek?

Or maybe I am getting a cold. And maybe I had better work my tail off this weekend and get caught up before I screw my classes up beyond saving.

GeeHaw. ArtCat dancing.