In my brain, the storm-signal flags are at 'PHE hurricane warning' level: instead of black-on-red squares, blue-on-white squares with little penguins at the bottom. Not to mention the little dusty white fingerprints from the all-purpose flour I've been going through like water.

Oatmeal cookies? Check.
Gingerpeople? Check.
Molasses spice cookies? Tomorrow.
Chocolate chip cookies? Not gonna bother until Saturday and Sunday.

Certain conversational gambits should come with warning flags. I've decided that any conversation I start that begins with the phrase "So I was on the elliptical, and I was thinking…" should be treated with the same level of skepticism and distrust given to any conversation that starts with "There was this one time at band camp…" Nine times out of ten, it's going to be a boring, dull recitation -- but it's the pesky tenth time around that'll get you when you're not looking, and make you wish you carried a big fat wad of mental floss in your pocket.

(What is the game of 'seven words'? See this entry for explanations, or to contribute potential words.)

I swung right, heading south, marveling at the darkness as the fog gobbled the neighborhood in front of me. The cars slid past, pointing their trumpet bells of light up and out, lighting little except the raindrops splattering their windshields.

Notation #1: Quarto is now at version 0.8. Prior to their mass genocide at the hands of their dictatorial (and stylishly jackbooted) leadership, the peasants rejoiced.

Possibly the most exquisitely funny part of creating one's own CMS (content management system) is the joy of writing one's own tooltips - a long, tedious, and generally loathsome process that provides endless opportunities to slide in examples of one's highly warped sense of humor.

See also today's attempt to explain to Joe Unknown User on the purposes of a 'blurb':