boys and girls, figments and scripts. . .

We gather here today to lay to rest one of the most (un)celebrated figures of the modern age.

It's all in the timing.

Today, I slapped around sendmail and made it my bitch. Then I told it to get it's bitch ass back in the kitchen, and make me some pie.

. . .for just not giving a good god damn.

Voice 1: "YOU NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING! YOU IDIANT!"

Voice 2: "HEY! I'm an 'idiot,' not an 'idiant.' If you're going to call me an idiot, at least say it right."

Voice 3: "Wow, sounds like you two are having an intelligent conversation."

Voice 1 and Voice 2 in unison: "Idiot."

Well, he ain't exactly got all his oars in the water anyway.

About four years ago or so, we went to a palm reader. My wife was fascinated with the idea. I had a mild curiosity. I approach such things with two things in mind.

• Remember it could all be bullshit.
• Always be respectful, even if you suspect it is all bullshit.

She saw a small blond child running around our house, but seemed confused by what it meant.

Stick the what into the WHAT? You've GOT to be kidding.

You're not going to find this even remotely interesting. After yesterday, I suppose that's only natural.

What're you trying to sell?

Honey, that's the only way I know how to do it.

Cute and frightening piccies inside.