Hey Kids.
Still trying to be light and fluffy. On that note, a word about statistics. People from all over the world seem to be visiting. Literally. Although a hefty percentage is coming from the East Coast of the US (followed closely by the West Coast), there are people from several countries. England, though, is quite lacking. Two people. Sod you lot, then. I thought I had several English friends. I jest. I have no English friends. (kidding then, as well)
New Zealand (?!), Australia (both coasts, no less) and what appears to be central or western Asia, perhaps Bangladesh or Thailand, are all there, too. Though why New Zealand gets more consternation that Bangladesh is weird. Old Zealand (And yes it does exist. It's an island off Denmark) needs to represent.
Hey foreign people! Drop me a line.
But oddly, the only place with one hit only was the Midwest. Apparently I don't appeal to Corn-Fed Goodness.
Although, let's face it. I only get spill over from a Petullant site.
I spent all day getting my resume and cover letter ready for an application at the Duke University Center for Documentary Studies. Another job I won't get.
Did I mention I got all my hair chopped off? The price of going to visit my parents for sympathy. I'm still reeling, and there's no fountain in sight.
I also got to see the Garm. Have I mentioned the Garm before? She's my parents miniature daschund. Her 'real' name is Nikki, but I, struck by her disproportionate viciousness, named her after the Norse guardian of the Underworld. Yes, a weenie dog named after a god. And yes, she looks like a rat. And yes, she yaps incessantly at anything that moves. Murphy the Wonder Ocelot (he's still on his tangent) would whupp her ass.
My mother confuses our names. While I was at home she not only said "Jason, get down off the couch" but also "Nikki, do your laundry."
It also turns out the Garm has taken my place on the couch. She plonked herself in front of me and stared (daschunds do that very well) when I sat down. My mother was not moved when I complained. "What do you expect? You're in her seat."
Displaced by a dog. A little yappy dog.
I did get a Cheerwine supply though. I thought of Kirkus. Specifically, how he does not at all resemble some variety of sea monster, which by his name you would think. You know, a kraken with glasses. But this is not the case. Not that or the Karkus, which was a superhero in the Hourly Telepress in the 21st Century. But that was just an episode of Dr Who (The Mind Robber, 1968: sehr trippy). But Kirkus would be cooler with an Anti-molecular Disentengrating Ray Gun. But who wouldn't?
(That's right -- Llew. Although... Hmm. Bookshop Barbarella? Oh how I like this one.)

Book of the Day: The Pickwick Papers, Book XI
Reason Laura Llew rocks: The joke about Ayn Rand. Absolutely classic. This apart from Bookshop Barbarella, which still fascinates me...
Dr Who of the Day: Mindwarp, part two. I Love The TECHNOCOLOR EIGHTIES! Flourescent pink water! Ultraviolet shingle! Yellow amphibious monsters! A thing called a Raak (or perhaps Rawk, which would be soo much cooler) that defies any attempt at description besides The Teeth, man, The Teeth!
And it's got Brian Blessed. That's right -- classically trained, legitimate theatre star Brian Blessed, as seen in several Ken Branaugh movies -- in 80s multicolor eye shadow and in a kaftan, being so incrediblely lovely-ly OTT (over the top) as the Warrior King Yracnos: "Swiiiiiiine! Animalllllls! I shall pull out your heart and eat it lightly sauteed!"

Hmm. I feel down again.
I think I'll watch some porn.
Am I kidding? Am I not? Who knows?