My goatee has migrated into full beard status. Methinks a culling of hair is in order.

I’ve wanted to post for the last couple of days, but laptop care took precedence. The current reportage is that the system is now working better, but it still likes to touch me in the bathing suit area when I least expect it.

I think this level of hanky-panky is currently survivable, but I’m growing concerned that it is the tip of the evil ice-berg; in a month or so I expect to find that it has been secretly taking pictures of me as I sleep, and posting them to it’s own private web-journal. I also think it wants to go out to hostess bars, smoke cigars, and participate in lewd acts of wanton naughty.

It’s going to the dark side.

What dirty, dirty little machine.

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