Well, it's true. I always have one excuse or another, show my work. Cassie Cockbite FINALLY bit the big one. Okay, not really. Cassie herself is fine. But her power cord and the pack thing are not. You see, I sit in a 3000000lb rocking arm chair (plus my own prodigious weight), usually with the hookups propped or wrapped around things to keep them from doing just what the did, which was end up under the chair. I crushed a corner of the pack and flattened out a section of the cord. Cassie's precious cables had fallen away from their props, So now she'll be good for another twenty minutes before it's goodnight, Irene. I mean, Cassie.
I am now using my aunt's computer. It "refreshes" every one second, which is just a nice way of saying that every three words, it puts that nifty little line that says I am typing somewhere else. I sent myself to "e hookups propped or wra" not too long ago. Just randomly. Because this is the only computer I have encountered in ten years that bit half as hard as Cassie.
What does this mean to everyone by chance reading this? Not much, unless you are zeind, Doomage, or SAWBAN. Then it means something to you. Because without Cassie, and her scanner friend (let's call it Bob), I can't do anything. At all. Until I get my tax return, really, or a job (...shit).
I'm just adding this to my unforgiveably long list of excuses, bad spelling, shitty work, and poor timing. It's always something.


In other news, my little niece Hannah was born. Despite being a baby, and therefore inherently ugly (seriously - they look like Roger Ebert), she is as cute as they come. And loud. And messy. But still adorable, and I love her to death.