I Declare This Space Held
Mrs. Pops is home this morning. Not only is she hogging the desktop computer for her "work" stuff, but it's also hard for me to concentrate on post-writing with the dog collar and leash on and the electrodes attached. So this will be it for now, possibly for the day. I can't risk the electricity burns.

Must go. If she catches me, Mistress will be very cross.

Pops


UPDATE 1:10 pm: She's gone to work. Since she's gone, I've taken over torturing myself by continuing to read Nietzsche. While reading, it felt like my nose was running. It didn't feel like snot, so I tasted a little of it: turns out my brain is melting. Nietzsche is melting my brain.

Don't ask me how I know what melted brain tastes like. It's hard to explain. It's just one of those things you'll know when it happens to you.

UPDATE 4:31 pm: When you have nothing to say, you cheat by inserting a picture. Here's a picture of my middle son playing old-school Pac-Man.

I figure if I set him on the exact same social path I took, I won't have to worry about him getting anyone pregnant in high school. Or college.
- posted by Pops @ 9:37 AM