I'M NOT DEAD.
JUST HAD TO ... sorry, the all-caps was on and I was too lazy to undo it. See, that's my problem. LAY-ZEE. Do I want to blog? Meh... Do I want to write? Meh-meh ... Do I want to make dinner, clean the kitty truffles and cut the grass? No, wait, I mean NO, but if I don't, Dave will make me get off my lazy backside and get a job. See, if I don't blog, no one is going to make me work. If there was a choice like that, I would be blogging my head off. Blog, blog, bloggitty blog, all day, all night.
I'm only posting today because I got a message from three bloggers who are infinitely more enthusiastic than me (which isn't saying much), asking me if my cats were plus-sized and I was attracting flies, and if my blog space was available at a discount because my pustulating corpse was stinking up the joint.
I feel like Tom Sawyer going to his own funeral. Only there isn't a funeral, because I'm not actually dead, and even if I was, nobody came and nobody made those little crustless egg salad sammiches that go so tasty with church lady coffee.
And if you tell me you don't know who Tom Sawyer is, I shall have to beat the ever-living snot out of you. Seriously. No sammiches, either. You are SO cut off.