Blame Bill O'Reilly and the smell of smoke

Every once in a while, for the entertainment value and because a blogger needs to be ‘pumped up’ to blog, I’ll actually read the dear old bloviating windbag, AKA Bill O’Reilly. Today was just perfect vintage O’Reilly, proving the axiom ( I’m not really sure there is one. Perhaps we should make one up. ) that when you don’t have anything thoughtful to say, make stuff up.

I’ll get to the made up part in a moment, so be patient. First, the mean old O’Reilly part.

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