Could it be that I have been bitten in the ass by my angel?
For months I have been thinking of pushing it through with this blog.
No real matter that the word "blog" annoys me as much as the word "drizzle."
Dooce, and all of her kind. I like it?
So I talked to a man who talks with angels (archangel Michael shows up for him, it seems...
along with chats with the souls of Obama and Sarkowsy).
He cleared the excess morsels of souls that had attached to my own little portable soul.
Two days later the book "The Valkyries" showed up on the arm of my couch.
And today I subscribe to Paulo's blog and the clearance word for the subscription
(that wavy nonsensical word in the box) is DOUCS.
So here I am typing.
Listening to my angel.
How can I change this font to Garamond and get my ass to the gym?