It is December 17, and I'm done my Christmas shopping. Neener, neener, neener.

Bring on the Visa bills. (Ack! Pbth.)

sucks. But it is over now.

In other news, the service bastards have still not come out to visit my badly-assembled furnace. You know, they could call. Call me and lie to me, that's fine. Say we are really busy with lots of people who have no heat at all, sir, we will not be able to see you today. Someone will call you tomorrow to reschedule, and then I'll get pissy at the front office crew who are the ones blowing me off. But no, no call, no visit, nothing. This is the third time I've been stood up. That's three strikes. I'd say they were out, but they've never been in. Hopefully the unsuspecting service rep will actually follow up on this tomorrow, and I'll vaguely threaten to let her have it. On the face of it, they have a problem with their trade, who is making them look bad. But that's not my problem. What do I want? I'll tell you what I want. I want some guy with a toolbelt to show up and fix my furnace, that's what I want.

Am I the only one bothered by the fact that the stream of spaceships outside the chancellor's office was a little... repetitious?

Trollin' trollin' trollin...

But wait, I'm wearing the wrong suit for this.

Permanent record? Hah!

...so never say I don't never give you nothing.