Champion I hadn't heard of, but if its that small, then I don't feel bad.

Super super small! We have this thing where everyone in Ohio knows where everywhere else in Ohio is, but yeah, Champion always befuddles everyone. It's a great name for a town to grow up in, though, isn't it?

We had a big old rambly lot there, a pond, barn, woods, fruit trees, a little stream. Daffodils and cattails and lots of places to get safely lost.

When I think about that house it's one of my favorite memories, and totally the place I would buy back if I were a rock star. It was completely passive solar aligned, big beautiful windows overlooking the south-facing pond, but with a carefully measured porch so it wasn't too hot in the summer. I remember playing in the lines of winter sunlight in the living room, with my mom in the kitchen just adjacent, fire going in the fireplace.

It was so idyllic it's ridiculous. Of course, it was also a steel town in its heyday, and it's not like that these days. But o the halcyon days of youth.

How to most effectively battle the common cold.

We finally have an update from Camp Crazypants. The response to Lawyer Man's excellent bullet-pointed letter—seriously, his last response to them was a thing of beauty: their last letter had been full of bullshit and bombast wrapped in convoluted language, while his was literally an opening paragraph followed by a bullet-pointed list that deconstructed all of their bullshit.

Anyhow, their response is mercifully short and in theory, tacitly acknowledges that they're full of shit. However, how it's phrased leaves something to be desired since it's all "Ms. F will do this" and "Ms. F will do that..." followed by a final caveat of "Sound actual confusion occur, regardless of origin, our client reserves all rights to all remedies under law and equity to enforce her rights to the name," (i.e. come after your client's ass again) which, as you can well imagine, is Not On.

I mean, an agreement/contract would seem to suggest that each party has to bring something to the table, no?

Twatwaffle.

I had some tea with honey, which my mother insists is a magical cure for all respiratory problems. I feel marginally better, I guess. Maybe it's less magic with red tea, but that was all I had.

Barb, that sounds like a letter that begs for two responses. The one you send, and the one you'd love to send if you dared.

Barb, that sounds like a letter that begs for two responses. The one you send, and the one you'd love to send if you dared.

No shit, Fred. The one I'd love to send would consist of seven words: "Fuck off and die. No love, Me."

I have been informed, however, that this is perhaps a wee bit lacking in diplomacy.

Oh DCJ ... so much ~~ma to your mom and Ray and you and Andi. Thinking of you lots and lots.

Oh, Barb. She really is as dumb as a box of hair. Or, even worse, assumes that you are.

that this is perhaps a wee bit lacking in diplomacy.

I was thinking along the lines of a three-page letter full of pointed phrases and other assorted snark. The verbal equivalent of a dozen stilettos.

Though your sledgehammer approach works just as well.