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First message o' the week (TM)I think I'm going to start trademarking random (TM) words or phrases I use. Just to annoy y'all (TM).Sorry, it's just that I (TM) have had to deal with Sun lawyers recently, and they're getting on my nerves (TM). Of course, that leads to an immediate problem (TM), that being that if I use the (TM) too often, I'll have to start trademarking it (TM (TM (TM (TM (TM (TM (TM (TM (TM (TM (TM))))))))))). Didn't actually go hang gliding yesterday, on account of weather. Apparently around this time, there's about a 50% chance of being able to actually do it. That chance increases as time goes on, so I just have to be patient. I hate being patient. Hmmph. You may notice that I'm not particularly amusing this morning. That's because I'm bitter. Bitter bitter bitter. Bitter and heartbroken. Bitter and angry. Bitter and ashamed. Bitter. Bitter. Bitter. Not for any particular reason, mind you. I just feel bitter. No, wait. I have to have a reason. What good is being bitter if you don't have anything in particular to vent your spleen on? (I just love the phrase "vent your spleen". It's so... just plain odd. And it contains spleen. A wonderful phrase in general. Right up there with the word "defenestrate".) Let's see. My head aches slightly. No good. Not enough to really get angry about. The computer is slightly misbehaving, but not enough to really be more than very slightly irritating. Hmph. WHY ISN'T THERE ANYTHING TO BE BITTER ABOUT? WHY? WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS TO ME, OH UNCARING UNIVERSE? MY LIFE IS PAIN BECAUSE MY LIFE ISN'T PAIN! (Yes, radio fans, you too can be bitter about not being able to be bitter. This leap of logic brought to you by the letters Q and Z, the number 23, and Proctor and Gamble, makers of fine... products... of some kind.) All right, fine. I admit it. I'm not bitter. Wait a minute. (A whole minute?) I do have a reason to be bitter. My hang gliding lesson was cancelled due to weather yesterday. So I'm going to have to wait another week to fly like a bird. Or two. Or three. Peaches and cream. Peaches and cream. Rrawk! Oh, apparently I needed to throw pepper at The Dread (Dead) Pirate LeChuck. Then I won the game. Since I am overcome by a sudden wave of ennui, I will stop now.
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