Now I probably won't shut up

Tired. Up till after 4 am.

Peter Jennings has lung cancer. I hate his smug attitude, but not the man himself. The Lord send His mercy through this painful disease and chemo side effects, making Mr. Jennings ready to take the walk we all must.

Had to keep myself from compulsively blogging more yesterday. I can see where this could develop into addictive behavior.

Was in the supermarket, stuck in line without my backup book, so I grabbed a (gasp) People magazine off the rack to quick-scan an article about the Pope. When the blasted subscription cards fell out and I had to bend under a display and cart to retrieve them, I began formulating a list of peeves so pet I should buy feeding bowls for them. Today's topic: magazines.

*Aforementioned subscription cards. Please. If I wanted to subscribe, I wouldn't be checking the "No Thanks" box on the Publisher's Clearing House entries, now would I?

*While we're at it, publishers note: When the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars, and I actually purchase a periodical, I immediately chop out all extraneous advertising pages and supplements and store in the nearest waste receptacle. They don't make it home or even out of the car. Nor do they even warrant a glance, except in annoyance while ripping.

*Apparently someone considers the inch-high, red-fonted "Women's Diet Breakthrough!" headline juxtaposed with a slaveringly appealing photo of a 2500-calorie whipped cream concoction some sort of cosmic balance.

*I don't give a redeyed rip about Paris Hilton, Ashton Kutcher, or any pop tart whose first name ends in "ey".

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Listening: Travis Cottrell, Alive Forever; Altan, Best Of
Watching these days: The Brother Cadfael series
TV status: off
Online: Blog; Bejeweled 2; Yahoo Groups; Free Republic; Gmail; eBay; Internet for Christians
Offline: Scrabble 2.0, PowerPoint
Reading: Short stories

Attention span: Low