After a long day of unremitting hard work and brain-bending stupidity on the part of my clients, I can think of nothing coherent to say, and yet I feel very much like writing. Think of this as a core dump.
For the past two days I have worked closely with my favorite in-house Perl script writer to fix the 600+ pages of my archives so that they work on spies.com. I can now get rid of three years of HTML at mindspring.com, thus freeing up most of my miniscule space there for some grandiose scheme or other. I bow, as always, to the mighty Ceej who graciously allows me an account at spies. All hail John, thanks to whom my archives are open for business.
I would just like to say, emphatically, that Campari is the nastiest drink I have ever tasted in my life, and I can't believe people pay to drink it. It tastes like mothballs mixed in worcestershire sauce. Wholly vile stuff.
There are not enough people naming their children after famous Roman or Greek heros anymore. I despair every time I hear of someone naming their child Matthew or Michael or David or Steven. The people who give their boys these tedious names are the same people who will, in all seriousness, consider naming a girl Angel Rose. Please. Angel Rose is a stripper's name. What are they thinking? They're thinking, "A son! My son will be named after every male in my family, chiefly me! My daughter can be named after a deodorant for all I care! Irish Spring, that's a great name for a girl!"
I'm in love with Leigh Keno of Antiques Roadshow. He's dreamy. I dig guys who know the difference between Federal and Colonial style. His twin brother Leslie isn't dreamy at all, which is odd considering they're identical twins.
Dixie, our dog, has been in good health for the last year. The dreadful tumor which we discovered by accident has not significantly enlarged, her mast cell tumors have not recurred, and she feels well most days. Unfortunately, she has developed high blood pressure, and an intermittent soreness in her forelegs which doesn't seem to be arthritis but has much the same effect. She is now on two drugs, Norvasc for the blood pressure, and Carprofen for the soreness, and is happy as can be. This time last year I was in constant tears over her health, and I am grateful for a full year of respite from the problems. Here's hoping for many more.
Natasha, She Who Pees Inappropriately For No Obvious Reason, seems to like her new sandy litter, and uses both the large cat box and the smaller box I put out next to it. Keiko, of course, loves the sand. Keiko loves all cat litter. Keiko gets in and covers up for Natasha if she deems the job not properly done. Keiko will immediately use the freshly changed cat box the minute I put it back on the floor, whereas Natasha waits until she has to go. The sand is a great success. I am cautiously hopeful that this will cure Natasha of her hallway problem.
The next random person who calls my agency out of the blue and asks me to keep my eye on airfares and give him a call when something cheap comes up is going to be really annoyed because I'm going to stop being polite and just laugh my head off. I'm not sitting around eating bonbons and checking fares on spec, bozo. I've got work to do.
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