Boy, when the blue meanies attack, they attack.
I hate Sundays. Which makes no sense, because there is little I can't do on Sunday that I can't do during the "workweek" and vice-versa.
Even the New York Times lays unread. Except for a few pages, one from which I scanned a photo on which I overlaid a poem that I posted on the website.
Now we will see if sharing this with you all and going to a meeting zaps me back to "normal." (If you're thinking "he needs to get laid, something awful" I think you''d be dead on.)
MCO 2005
