I am a South Beach failure

I mean, I've lost like 10 pounds and yet this morning saw me dash out in a hail-mary for doughnuts. I am talking the talk but waddling the walk.

Honest to God, at some point I will post something here worth reading. Remember the glory days? Summer of 2003? All of 2004? When I was all type type type, merrily gasbagging my way through the blogosphere?

Then I decided to get serious about writing fiction - after inflicting a full three novels on you via my NaNoWriMo daily blog - and zip! the bloggy bloggingness dried up. Very sad.

The good news is that I am working on a new story, a young adult book that features a girl who just wants to take a vacation from herself. I am very squeeeee! about the characters, and am outlining a plot now. Multiple plots, actually. yay me!

When did Madonna turn into a man?

Have you looked at her arms lately? She looks like a pre-op tranny. What gives?

I'm famous.

http://www.patriciagaffney.com/blog/

Also: Is there anyone else out there who won't be flying the flag tomorrow? After Bush's commuting Scooter Libby's sentence--basically saying, hey, if you're on our side, treason's not so bad!--I am ashamed of our country.

I certainly don't feel like wrapping my ass in the flag like it was a sarong, which was how I used to spend the Fourth of July--shaking it like the patriot I am--up until George Bush the Second took office. From then on, Independence Day has been a bleak, bleak affair.

Sorry, fellas. If you're looking for funny, these days I am not supplying it. The good news is that I am writing; a few pals and I have started our own version of Novel in 90. We're doing Novel in 100 With Sundays Off. That's how we roll. The even better news is that I think I have figured out how to save Pere. Let's hope so, anyway.