. . .

I have no soul

When I say "I have no soul", I mean it in a purely metaphorical sense. I don't mean that I have no actual soul, I mean I have no principles, no emotions, and no sense of self.

And no sense of humor.

So that is cleared up.

Freeeyoooow.

(Prounounced "freeeeeeeeyoooooow", for those of you "not in the know", "unhip", "not with it", "uncool", and general "squares".)

I might have stubbed my toes when I wasn't paying attention. That would explain the intermittant aches.

I'm basically writing this to (you guessed it) avoid actual work, not because I have an actual reason or goal. Just wanted to point that out in case you were worried.

If you weren't worried, I pity you. From the bottom of my colon.

Actually, make that the appendix - the bottom of the colon is officially a bad thing.

Well, I'm sure somewhere out there is a group called MFBC, Mothers For Bottoms of Colons. But we try not to go there.

Or invite them over for office parties.

Went shopping. Bought comic books. Am happy.

No, not Books of Magic.

Anyone know exactly what a "twidgie" is? It happened to come up in conversation.