Jennifer Manley Lee has updated her gallery. I mention this in part because she’s located the portrait of Molly and Griffen that I gave her a few years back and in part because she’ll be starting a new chapter of Dicebox soon. Which means I’m also recommending that you subscribe to Girlamatic.com.

Though you could wait to do that until I’m properly set-up as a Modern Tales affiliate seller. That will make more sense sometime in the next week.

Tokyoplastic.com

The Dante’s Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Take the Dante’s Inferno Hell Test

Watched Sin and Tokyo Raiders this weekend on DVD. Saw The Chronicles of Riddick in the theatre. Finished Neverland, the last of four Douglas Clegg novels I’ve had sitting on my shelf for the last few years. The other three novels were You’ll Come When I Call You, Breeder and The Children’s Hour. Now I’m chewing through Cain by James Byron Huggins.

Stalked by ravens on the way home from work yesterday. Twice.

Stalked again on the way to work this morning. Three times.

I can’t tell if it’s the same ravens each time or if there’s some sort of raven meme going around that’s having random gangs of ravens decide to dive bomb me.

Yesterday it was annoying. This morning I decided to roll with it and play. The ravens announce their intentions with loud squawks so it’s not like they’re trying to disguise what they’re doing. A dive bombing bird is not a silent bird. Gives me plenty of time to duck.

After the second bunch started in this morning I picked up pinecones. The chance of me hitting a raven is next to nil. But ravens (at least these ravens) know what small objects in human hands mean. With most of the birds, all I needed to do to have them keep their distance was show them the cone in my hand. Usually they’d put distance between me and themselves. A couple of them required me to throw the cones in order to get the message.

Went to a wedding down in Sonoma County on May 30. Here are the pictures. No they aren’t good pictures. And, yes, you’ll have to register to see them. Such are the trials and tribulations of living in 21st Century Amerika.

I want a shot. Of Tequila preferably. Because I like Tequila. Because it has that nasty taste that just fits my tongue. Certainly there are other alcohols that are appealing but Tequila insults me like a good friend.

Unfortunately, it’s Sunday here in the Emerald City and that means the state controlled liquor stores are closed. Going to a bar is no fun. With my alcoholic tendencies the bill just gets too high too fast.

Nizzibet has part of a bottle of rum stashed in a cupboard but … yuck.

What do you know? It’s my birthday.

I’ve no plans to do anything special for it. Nizzibet and Jaydogg have decided to help me celebrate sometime in June. Fine with me. One day is pretty much as good as any other. I certainly don’t feel any older. Or more mature.

The fun part will be seeing if Aged Mother remembers what day it is. And whether she sees the need to tell me the ’64 Alaska Earthquake Story again. Heh.

Paul T. Riddell has a weblog.

Who?

Don’t bother me with details son! I did something horrible to that boy in a former life and I’ve got to make up for it somehow.

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And on another note –

Mystery Person? Are you still there?

I’m sorry but I’m just not up for philosophical discussions right now. I wish I were. But that requires an ability to maintain a thought process long enough to explain the reasoning behind said thought process. And I just don’t have that ability right now.

I’d still like to touch base. Find out who you are and what you’ve been doing the last fifteen years. Email me again please!

Apparently Blogger now allows comments. Apparently their commenting system is in need of improvement but let’s test it shall we?

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Nope. Don’t see a field. Maybe later.