Thursday, May 8, 2003

My Muse kind of died again, gentle reader, so while my HR department attempts to locate a new one, I’ll fill you in on some important company policies.

First, while I would very much like to install a tracker on this site–as far as I know, you and I are the only people reading this site right now–I won’t do so. Our company was founded on a solid stalker’s credo, so take heart! You may click the relaxing olive-green all you want in sweet anonymity.

Second, before you accuse me of having just fallen off the turnip truck, I must exonerate myself and state that I know story chapters don’t begin in bold every frickin’ time. I turn on the font factory, dear reader, to distinguish wisdom from fiction. Yeah, I’ve been staying up nights thinking about this one.

Third, hail to the Pom-Pom.

Finally, your gentle CEO received a tax-return check today. I was briefly elated, but then I realized that reveling over the check is akin to asking Uncle Sam to remove a chunk of flesh from my body, letting Sam keep some of it, hoping that he’ll mail the leftovers back, and then thanking him for doing so.