Heh, Kat, I think we all do. But I don't think the Mars Rover would fit in my condo.

Sail Weigh clad all in black latex and leather, cracking her whip along the aisles of the Wal-Mart, while the Amish flee screaming…

Yeah, let's go to Mars. The Rover guys who sandbagged the estimates on the Rover lifetime are getting their just rewards. The God of Winds (Aeolus?) is rewarding their efforts.

Some unexplained vaccuuming would be awsome. Or better yet, dishes.

Gus, you and the goilfriend could come to Chicago for dinner with Lee (and Sail and some Chicago types) on Monday. We've got urban.

Golden One, Mondays are just awful. Both the GF and I have teleconference commitments every Monday, to prove we are actually working.

Which means we have to actually work, the preceding Sunday.

Here are the things that come up with when you try to threadsuck-n-search after a long hiatus, and your name is Gus:

Dis GUS ting.

ND gets hits for "and."

ND gets hits for "and."

I would have sympathy for ND (Noise Design! We is talking about you.) behind this, if he wasn't getting all the tall-dark-and-scrumptuous vote as it was.

edited later:

I am up late because I am not sleeping. If I knew why I was not sleeping, I would have an answer that would cause insomniacs around the world to flock toward me.

I would form an insomniac ashram.

I would teach the insomniacs how to sleep.

It would be the Cult of Gus.

The IRS would laugh about my claims of tax deductibility … save those few insomniac IRS agents.

Them? They will work from within.

Followed Nilly's Important Posts thing and discovered I was posting at the same time as a celeb. Silly me.

Replies in three threads. No responses. I am Pariah or Buffistas are sleeping around the globe.

I will serial post, out of a feeling of vengence toward the somnolent, or because I am angry in that way, and have that kind of vocabulary.

Serial posts. I am such a brute.

Soon, I shall type you into a froth.

Gus, embrace the somnolence. Go to bed. I'm gonna try the same.