shaken & stirred

welcome to my martini glass


see you next week (updated) (again)

Unless strange children speaking a foreign tongue convince me otherwise, that's it for me this week. There's this whole business of a book to revise and another I'm supposed to have a 100 pages of in, oh, two weeks or so. (I'm currently on page 50.) Whenever I feel the need to blog (read: procrastinate) over the weekend, I'll just get another Diet Coke and go back to work.

For that is how sausage is made.

(Actually, Diet Coke and writing have very little to do with the making of sausage.)

This entry brought to you by the Sausage Makers of America.

Updated: I promised no new posts, so no new posts. But hey, y'all, head over to Mr. Rowe's place and play "My Day Job Destroys My Will and Soul at a Faster Rate Than Your Day Job Destroys Yours!" in the comments. Past jobs are fair game. Play nice. There will be at least one prize.

One more update: Guide horses. I know it's wrong but: I want one as a pet! (Via Erin.) (I really do know it's wrong, promise.)

Juuust one more: Merry Friday the 13th, lucky day to all us unluckies. I heart this:
"My personal savior is Batman," said Beverly Hills plastic surgeon Greg Jurgenson. "My wife chooses to follow the teachings of the Gilmore Girls. Of course, we are still beginners. Some advanced-level Fictionologists have total knowledge of every lifetime they have ever lived for the last 80 trillion years."
Praise Batman. Praise Lorelai. Praise The Onion.


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