(no subject)

Little to report. It's hot, humid, and stuffy, and everyone has facial wounds from attempting to claw out their own sinuses. I stay in until I can't stand it anymore, then go out for a soda, then go home again. The closest I've come to a creative endeavor was the unholy union of multicolored graph paper and the Agent Kay notebook I got at Universal last Halloween.

Cleaning out basement, which only seems to make it worse even though there's less crap. Fie.

(no subject)

Dear Ann,

I know you're tired, uncomfortable and vaguely drugged out, but announcing "Hey, Bob Hope's finally dead!" to your officemates is perhaps a bit over the line.

Love,

Ann

(no subject)

For some reason the number of hits on the Dragnet icons page has trebled in the last week or so. I have a mental picture of someone, somewhere leaving their Drinky Bird too close to the F5 key.