Use of language is dangerously fraught. In one area, in a way that I'm finding frustrating and risky; in another area, just stupid and aggravating.

At this point I suspect I'm going to stop trying -- I've given notice of such in the frustrating-and-risky case -- and work on reading this manuscript from Graydon. I opened it up last night, then blundered around until I found a three-ring notebook, and then decided that three in the morning was not a good time to start reading text that's as rich as Black Forest Cake and requires as much meditative digestion.

I do remember the hat though, from when it came up on rasfc I'm pretty sure. Mmmmmm. (I taunted you, [livejournal.com profile] oneironaut. Now I must taunt you a second time.)

Changer's doing a lot of Roxette lately. Often appropriately.

    Then there's a sound from the telephone
    "When can I say she's coming home?
    Leave me the number you're dialing from--
    --and may I ask who's calling?"


Mm, pop music in 6/8.
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