Like A Virgin

Well, Zed beat me to the capsule biography, but despite my having been described as a pill, I seriously doubt I’m Kosher, nor am I one of the attractive penicillins. Actually, I believe I’m more of a liquid-form medication: sure, I taste a bit funny, but I’m handy to have around and I come in such fascinating colors…

So I have foolishly volunteered to babble on while Yami goes around putting rocks in her head. Hm. This being the loss of my guestblogging virginity (don’t you feel voyeuristic, now?), I’m still feeling around it the dark. The idea is to be more interesting than a series of “too busy to post” posts, which is manageable enough, but of course all of the *really* clever observations are going on my own blog, as are all the boring self-analyses and summaries of my day (jam packed with such goodies as trips to Wal-Mart and what my roommate had for breakfast). Which leaves snarky commentary and interesting web finds. Doable… yes.

Ooooh, and comments from the peanut gallery, just in:

Simmering soup awaits…

I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong blog: that would be here. Thank you, and do come again…

Comments

  1. yami wrote:

    Actually, it’s the “groping around in the dark” bit that made me feel voyeuristic…

  2. Kat wrote:

    Hey, whatever gets you going.

  3. grid wrote:

    hey, you can’t be a voyeur of your own blog! Or can you? Are you a voyeur when you watch yourself have sex in the mirror?

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