Thank this!
Or not.
So the long weekend was nice. Saw the family, left the family. Saw several old friends at Nate's (but never heard from Vanessa on Sunday - shame, shame, kid).
Anyhoo, the head is slightly addled this midday. Can't remember whether the dream I don't want to talk about was last night or the one before. Got any ideas?
Look, if I thought "Spanish Jim" was a good name for a car, would I be sleeping at my desk any less?
Light fixture:
Here's a picture of my little cousin Emma. She's seven years old, cuter than you and too young to not love me unconditionally, suckers.
She thought my brother's name was "Steve" until she was five.
I dread her aging almost as much as my own.