These pretzels are making me thirsty!

It must get frustrating for you, Constant Lurker, to visit here on a semi-regular basis and read long stretches of entries dedicated to chaos and doom and desperation.

Oh, how I would love to offer you more. Fact, I've got entries I've drafted in my head for remarkable, awe-inspiring, pants-soiling milestones that have yet to happen.

Alas, until those glorious events actually come to pass in the really real world, all I've got to offer you are salted pretzels.

You gonna cry...?


I don't know how anyone can live like I live.

Speaking of mortality, Natasha Richardson may or may not be getting a posse soon. This is why I don't ski. (Because I love living so much, obviously.)