I had to fix a problem with the "Work To Do" which was plaguing the system (it was the new blogs system's fault).

Sunday, November 03, 2013

I guess there are fans

All right, so I guess there are fans I'm not falling in love with after all. Bet you want info about the rally, uh? Well, I don't know, I don't have any. Barbie isn't into delegation. A good scaper is whatever she says it is. (Apparently, sleep is a bad thing. I should be more dedicated. Four hours. What was I thinking?)

All I can suggest, then, is to hit the one reliable URL.

She didn't mind so much dying. Someday, John would go up there, and he couldn't take her along. She had to hitch her own ride. Maxime can be one depressing puppy.

 

What does it say that the re-opening of the newly furbished Sainsbury was the highlight of my day? (Or yesterday, or the day before. I am losing track. I am losing my perspective.)

But, no, no. That was not the highlight. That would have been the hour I spent on his grave howling at the moon. No, not sacrificing chickens to the gods of Positivism. That's not how these things happen. Blood sugar bottomed out late in the afternoon, food an afterthought, my stomach lining was contemplating cannibalism as I scolded the ground into staying put. Full moon, and as always I was restless. Not don't-talk-to-me-or-I'll-bite-your-head-off restless, more along the lines of a if-I-come-across-a-halfway-good-looking-male-there's-going-to-be-some-damage kind of energy that makes me vibrate and grin.