At least Mexico has something to boast about. They deserve it after NAFTA destroyed their job market.
I'm not in the mood to write tonight because I don't feel well. I'm drinking a Diet Coke -- mainly because it was cold. I got it out of the fridge and, to my hand, it's cold, even now (or the bottle is). But in my mouth, it tastes warm. And it doesn't taste like coke. I can't figure out what it tastes like. It's not coffee but something syrupy and thick.
Anyway, when my taste buds do like that, it's generally a sign that I've got a very nasty cold. I get those about every five years. (I get a mild cold ever winter. Please, we live in the north.) I felt strange all day and wasn't hungry (had toast for breakfast and nothing since). But it wasn't until I felt the need for something cold and grabbed that 16 ounce Diet Coke (which is Elaine's -- I'll replace it before she's back this weekend) to drink something cold that I realized I was sick.
This is C.I.'s "Iraq snapshot" for Tuesday: