* * * Oh, and speaking of the swag, a couple of people have mentioned that they’d like to have a certain picture on a certain shirt or other item. Since I’ve got another CafePress page set up for the late OFB, if there’s a certain picture you want to see, let me know which picture (be specific) and which item, and I’ll set it up for a few days so you can buy it. Am I accommodating, or what?

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So I started writing out cards last night (I always do the cards that are going to other countries first), and it occurred to me that I’m sending out cards, many of which say “Merry Christmas” on them, and not everyone who gets a “Merry Christmas” card celebrates Christmas, and so I hope none of you who don’t celebrate Christmas are offended if you get a “Merry Christmas” card. Just know that what I REALLY mean is “Happy Holidays”, mm’kay? And speaking of the cards, if you haven’t filled out the form (link toward the bottom, in that all-bolded section) to have me send you a card because you are secure in the knowledge that you sent me your address LAST year, you still need to do it. I don’t keep names and addresses from year to year, and I know it’s a huge asspain for you to fill out the form every year and everything, but what if I accidentally sent a card to someone who grew to hate me since last year (maybe they even grew to hate me because I sent them a “Merry Christmas” card!)? Can you imagine the drama? Time’s a-wastin’, folks. If you want a card, fill out the form. I’m going to start signing in earnest tomorrow and hope to have all the cards done by next Monday. Bahahahah! Ha! Hee! Oh, I slay me.
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I’ve started getting spam on my new email address. How long did that take, 2 months, something like that? At least Eudora catches it and throws it in the “junk” file, but it also does that with a lot of valid email that I get, so I still have to look and be sure it’s spam before I delete it. FUCKING spam. They’re on the fast track to hell, those fucking spammers.
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The Bean is just being the biggest fucking pain in the ass lately. He’s been tromping around on my desk, knocking shit off, and going after the shelf of cool smiley face stuff that’s by my desk. This morning, he jumped up on the shredder – he loves to jump from the shredder to my desk (and no, there’s no way he could accidentally get his paw shredded) – and hit the button to turn the shredder on. He just SAT there contentedly, until I turned to look at him. “You better MOVE, boy!” I said. “You’re going to get your stupid paws shredded!” (What? I can’t lie to my cat?) He seemed to understand, and bounded off the shredder, thus knocking it over so that shredded paper spilled everywhere. “GODDAMN IT!” I yelled, and he smirked at me before bounding off into the kitchen. I followed him, to grab the vacuum cleaner out of the closet. He watched me from his vantage point atop the kitchen table until he realized what I was doing, and then he ran off to hide under the couch so that the scary vacuum cleaner wouldn’t get him. I got about 3/4 of the spilled confetti vacuumed up when the vacuum became clogged. “GODDAMN IT!” I yelled, and carried the vacuum into the kitchen. There, I detached one end of the hose, danged it over the trash can, and attempted to get the hose unclogged by sticking a knife down the other end of the hose. A very sharp knife. Which promptly sliced through the hose. “AGGGGGGH! FUCK!!!!!! I HATE YOU, BEAN! YOU ARE A VERY BAD BEAN!” I said, continuing the life-long tradition of blaming someone else when I accomplish a particularly dumbass act. “You’re awful troublesome, Bean,” I said conversationally as I repaired the hole in the hose with duct tape. The Bean peered at me from under the couch. Later, after I’d called and ranted to Fred about the Bean and his troublesome ass, I was checking my email one last time before running out to do errands. The Bean jumped up on my desk to make amends.
Lucky for him he’s so damn cute.