Oh, God. This again?

 
Back to Life, Back to “Reality”
My at-work computer has literally been resurrected, and I have little work to do, so I really don’t have any excuse to not be posting volumes of drivel. I have caught up with a lot of my ‘blog-reading (punctuated by frenzied visits to Yahoo! for my game-playing needs).

I guess I would’ve written more (and sooner) had my week been very eventful. I don’t think watching Robert Smith make a five-minute appearance on CNN Headline News qualifies as newsworthy, or packing a large Samsonite suitcase that I’ll be sharing with our daughter, or the Scott vs. roach encounter (Part XVII) last night wherein I sprayed the roach with deadly toxins and then smashed him with one of Michelle’s copies of Allure, or how I had my first kamikaze in months the other night when I came home from the studio and it tasted like the perfect blend of love and pain.

But, hey, here’s something worth ‘blogging! “You made me . . . promises, promises . . .”

Oh, if hungover women from Richmond are to be believed and/or trusted, and conspiring with them is in any way advisable, then perhaps we have planted the seed for a ‘blogger meetup in Atlanta. There is nothing even approaching “firm” or “specific.” I mean, hell, I could be making this shit up.

shaken and poured by Scott-san at 11:56 AM