Give Me Wine Or Money.

When I was in college, I did a weekly cartoon with a roomate for the campus paper. One strip showed one of the guys coming back from classes in an unusually good mood; when asked, he says "I've got too much work to POSSIBLY to get done on time!" Of course, this simply means that there's no need to do ANY of it.

Which is where I'm at RIGHT NOW. So I'm dicking around on blogs.

Ah hell. I've got to go get the new mekes CD and there's a review of it under way for your pleasure; it's going to be a long black belt weekend starting Friday night, but Sunday I'm learning something severe called Joint Lock Manipulations which promises to be gleefully dangerous and harmful; and next week is our anniversary and party. To which all of you are, of course, invited.

Apparently I have, like Snag, managed to drive away the Lovely Wife and Spawn, who will be MIA for much of next week. Either I will eat the dog or she will eat me.