I think that I've been working on the Handbook That Ate Tokyo for so long that it's starting to develop sentience. I just spent fully twenty minutes trying to figure out why a graphic had disappeared from the book. Did I delete it? Was I supposed to? I checked a backup version from January. No graphic. Checked a paper copy. No note that I was supposed to delete it. Freakout. Go to original version, grab graphic. Paste in graphic. Try to format text under graphic. Notice that there are now two copies of graphic -- the one I pasted in, and the one that was apparently there all along. Except I swear to god, it wasn't.

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Cats can destroy leather chairs; our last pair of cats took an evil liking to the side of an expensive Scandinavian Design chair.

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My hand-me-down furniture (a small sofa and two swivel rockers) is ugly, but comfy.

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In our house, it's called the clicky fire thing, and is usually taken away from me.

Hee!

Oh, poor Sheryl. I'm glad your trip was otherwise good, but man, food poisoning. Ugh. I hope you recover quickly and it's soon just a dim memory.

Food poisoning is the worst. It is like -- being poisoned. And can put you off the food that gave it to you for good. Anyway, for a long long time.

I live in panic of it. As cheap thrifty as I am trying to learn to be, I still live by When in doubt, throw it out, when it comes to food, because I *know* I would pay whatever the cost of the food was, not to have food poisoning.

Most of those massage chairs don't do it for me, but this one actually felt like you were getting a massage. Our bones were liquid by the time we left the store. It's a shame about the ugly, though.

But it has a *great* personality!

Maybe every home should have a dimly lit room, where nobody can quite make out what you're wearing (so comfy clothes all the way), or what the furniture looks like, or if your hair and make up look decent. It could be called the comfort room.

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There's a product I usually refer to as a "candle pistol" because you pull a trigger and it produces a flame. But it's much bigger than a cigarette lighter. What's its real name?

In our house, it's called the clicky fire thing, and is usually taken away from me.

Jilli is so me!

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Jilli is so me!

Do you have a desperate craving for s'mores right now?

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I think that I've been working on the Handbook That Ate Tokyo for so long that it's starting to develop sentience.

You're probably okay, as long as it isn't calling you at home and saying, "Hello, Clarice."

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Do you have a desperate craving for s'mores right now?

Oo, yes, that too. It's like we're sharing a brain!

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Do you have a desperate craving for s'mores right now?

I sure do. I would let you hold the clicky fire thing, and try to melt them, that way too, Jilli.

Oo, yes, that too. It's like we're sharing a brain!

You are. It's the hivemind. Bitches probably has everyone craving s'mores, right now.

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Oo, yes, that too. It's like we're sharing a brain!

Nifty. Oh, sorry about the earworm of "I'm Cute" by the Animaniacs ...

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