Toothpicks pry open my eyes.

a smile more yellow than the sky.

well, o my beloved non-existants, my droogs and only friends, my long-suffering malchicks and ptitsas, i am still posting from the library.

why? you ask, as well you should.

cause, apparently, if you are a semi-braindead packer who smells a little like whiskey and alot like bo, it is a bad choice to pack the the rather heavy printer/copier/fax/scanner on top of the cpu.

so i have internet, but a computer that is so jostled and confused that it doesn't know whether to wind its ass or scratch its watch. yes, as soon as i am done posting here, i will be googling "computer repair" and "space coast" (every time i say or write "space coast" i get the crazy urge to say, "space coast, ghost to ghost"! and if you get that joke, then you are at least as big a dork as i am).

and i am feening, o my beloveds, because i haven't read any of your blogs in at least two weeks, and i haven't chatted at my usual haunts in that long either, and i haven't surfed por--err, that is to say, looked at ebay, in that long as well.

what did we ever do before the internet?

well, no. 2 is becoming a bit of a nuisance, and i must wrap this up so i might set about charging a new cpu to the moving company, so more bulletins as events warrant.

darth sardonic