Friday Fek

Happy Friday Stroock's Books kibbutzim and shabbat shalom. Another Friday without getting in a Judaism tonight. 

We avoided football last night because, well, because the NFL can't stop leg humping the Dallas Cowboys' and makes them the showcase Sunday game or puts them in primetime. As a result, we've seen every Cowboys game this season. Every goddamn game and we're sick of hearing about Dak Prescott's awesomeness (2-5) in the playoffs. 

We stayed away from last night's Cowboys/Lions game till the fourth quarter. Much to our delight we saw the Lions score two late touchdowns to knock off the Cowboys 44-30. The Cowboys have an impressive offense. But their defense is terrible. Just terrible. In fact, the Cowboys' defense sucks. 

The Cowboys are 6-6-1. Can we stop the Dak Prescott MVP talk, please? Prescott's not as good as Troy Aikman or Roger Staubach.  He's not even as good as the forgotten QB in Cowboys history, Danny White. 

Yesterday Mrs. Stroock heard laughter both uproarious and maniacal, which means we found something to be really, really funny. Not the Bee reports, 'Tim Walz Says People Are Driving By His House To Call Him Retarded...' We swear we've nothing to do with this. 'Fucking retard!' Sound of peeling tires. ROFL!

DOGE Report: damn it! Or not. We thought we got a book specifically about the IRA in Derry. We couldn't find it and moved on. This morning we found the book. We're going to have to read it and make some updates, aren't we? Doing so would make the novel better, right? Right?

Also, our grognard, in all his autistic weirdness, read through the Thatcher's War MS yesterday and sent along his critique. He seems generally pleased. 

Okay, we know what's happening with our zany Irish kids in the 5th nuke novel. And so we wrote. Damn crazy Irish priest. What next? 

We saw the cover for James Young's latest short story compellation in the Arc of Ares series. Yes, we have a story in this one. The cover looks good, though James foolishly didn't put our name on it. Damn him. This month, probably.