I moved at my office this week from one cubical to another one. One without as much storage space. If they take my red stapler, I'm going to set the building on fire.

I've also been giddy with pleasure since the arrival this week of my 15" Powerbook. Like my penis, I can't stop touching it.

And with so much going on -- the Bush/Cheney -- ahem -- "testimony", the Robert Wilson book coming out, the feverish pace with which the Kerry campaign is seeking a running mate, stations refusing to air Nightline's special broadcast tonight -- I should be posting.

So to apologize:

I read this story a long time ago and loved it. And now here it is, stumbled upon in a Slashdot post:

They're made of meat

Enjoy.