The IRS wants you to lose weight!
This is the subject of an email I received yesterday. Now, let me get this straight: they're taking my money, and they're insulting me? Sweet! (Actually, I think there was some explanation within the email, which was related to some diet software I'd downloaded awhile ago, but... I didn't really look at it too closely. Because they are all bastards, and their "marketing" people are clearly idiots.)
I had that moment yesterday that comes once a year in the life of every resident of the Pacific Northwest, where you go: "I know I bought some sunglasses last year... now where the hell did I put them?"
Finally, you have the super-special opportunity to vote for my Alias fic at the Rendezvous Awards. So please do, if you're so inclined. The fic in question is "Manhattan Hotel," and you can find it on my site, or there's a link to it at the Rendezvous page. At the very least, head over there to check out some of the nominated fics--there are some good ones.
I get to watch Buffy with Eunice (and Myrtle, of course) tonight. This makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.
I had that moment yesterday that comes once a year in the life of every resident of the Pacific Northwest, where you go: "I know I bought some sunglasses last year... now where the hell did I put them?"
Finally, you have the super-special opportunity to vote for my Alias fic at the Rendezvous Awards. So please do, if you're so inclined. The fic in question is "Manhattan Hotel," and you can find it on my site, or there's a link to it at the Rendezvous page. At the very least, head over there to check out some of the nominated fics--there are some good ones.
I get to watch Buffy with Eunice (and Myrtle, of course) tonight. This makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.