"I know where the bodies are in Lake Melody..."

This promises to be a somewhat claustrophobic weekend. J. has the flu, so we won't be going anyplace (at least no farther than the dairy). He's sleeping propped up in the recliner because he did something awful to his diaphragm today with all the coughing spasms. I hate sleeping alone. It's cold and lonely and I have noplace to warm my footies.

So since he's in no condition to help me with the big studio demolition, I'm going to spend the next two days sitting here, burning CDs. Nudies!

I need a color laser printer. Give me recommendations, my niblings. I am sick of inkjet.

I really like the way unfinished rock maple feels, cool and hard. It's substantial. I want a table made out of it.

Random endorsements:

7gypsies Lovely thingies.
Yay! Kirk's Soap! (second best in the world, next to Dr. Bronner's)
Corningware. Why? Because everyone needs/uses Corningware. They deserve some credit.
Fred the donut guy, whom we all have wondered about. Is he also Sam Breakstone? Did he ever screw up and say the donuts were NOT THICK ENOUGH?

(no subject)

J. being sick is boring. More for him than for me; I can always find something to do. He has been forced to remain supine for most of the day because sitting up in a chair makes him cough; this irks him because he can't play whatever doofey mmporg that Pagan Mike the Douchebag at Work has gotten him into now (E&B, Eve, I dunno what all else).

Pagan Mike ennervates me. I want to run him over. With a Zamboni. *adds that to The List* Zambonis rock the block.

Furthermore!

I maintain that forcing someone to necessitate (for whatever reason) the un-American practice of banning someone (FIRST AMENDMENT! FIRST AMENDMENT!) from their whiny personal journal is the ultimate act of pwnership, not the other way around. AIN'T NO SKIN OFF MY TEEF, BEETCH.

Of course, if you're intelligent enough to institute a pre-emptive ban to smother any whining, well then, you're 5x5, as Eff would say to Bee.

CAN I GET AN A-MEN?