In a perfect world, work would

never contain the phrases:

touch base

under the covers

sweet spot

get another head

let's get a room

dell on dell

Oog.

"We're out of soy milk."

"That's okay."

Wrong answer.

Oh.

Hm.

I lost.

My ears itch.

Further announcements

as events warrant.

Last night, awake,

a voice spoke intimately:

"You, too, will die,

someday.

It will hurt. You will be frightened."

I lay awake a long time.

Day at the lake.

Pajama party.

And a hicky.

It's what weekends

are all about, baby.

I'd rather be

reading my Sandman book.

For all the other reasons

I love Textism,

I love his recipes the most.

My precioussssss

This is starting

to look like a habit.

Well I thought it was funny.

create bat dir

...

To the Bat Dir, Robin!

swoosh

*cough*

Well,

it's good

MST3K

material.

I feel virtuous,

being here this early.

Incessant machine hum

makes you psychotic.

I know.

Sorry.

I don't feel like trying.

Gimme a week or so.

Undeniable wisdom from Shawn:

"Powdered creamer

comes from undead cows."

AAAH! Childhood trauma!

Researching below,

follow to Michael Caine,

find confirmation of nightmare

I was never before sure

had actually existed.

Secondhand Lions:

Enchantingly predictable,

predictably sweet.

What we need is more

Science.

It's not motivating to post

when there can be no comments.

Strangely,

it is also not motivating to work.

FYI,

the comments server

died a few days ago.

They're working on a fix.

Sick computer

is convalescing.

And I have so much

to tell you.