This is turning out to be a busy summer, which is why I haven't had time to update this electronic form of identity in a while. I must admit, each day I don't click onto my interweb stratosphere, terrible pangs of guilt infiltrate my innards. To make it up to you and myself, I am going to hold my breath until my cheeks turn blue, slice the bottoms of my feet off very slowly with a dutch hoe, pluck the tiny hairs from my arms, pierce my eyeballs with hot pokers, wrap a line of barbed wire around my neck, and have a tone deaf man sing to me (something by phil collins) each night before I fall into painful slumber. That'll show me.