Of computer mice and mien

Since everyone seems to know about the Tiger Woods' babes, except for me, I thought I'd share a little of the Tiger love.



There. Don't you feel better now? I don't, but that's only because I have to work.

I was up until past 11 p.m. last night finishing a review book that needed to be reviewed and sent in this morning. I fell asleep reading, which is not that uncommon, except I don't remember when I turned out the light. No, it's not burnt out; it was actually turned out. I just don't remember doing it. After a day of typing an extra 60 reports, amounting to 150 pages, I am entitled to a little fugue state now and again. However, the book, Leaving Gee's Bend, which is probably a YA novel, is actually quite good and it will go to my granddaughter Savannah to add to her growing collection of books. The other book, a fantasy novel, the first in a new series, Flesh and Fire was surprising and innovative. The author, Laura Anne Gilman, used the story of Jesus Christ, turned it on its head a little and created a world where the magic is in the grapes and the magicians, Vinearts, wine makers who imbue their spell wines with specific properties, like healing wounds, staunching blood, creating winds, mending bones and even setting fires that burn on what they are told to burn. There's a good deal of the wine making art and the oenophile's sensuous savor of the taste and flavors/aromas of wine, but that doesn't detract too much from the main story. I recommend both books.

I've a few minutes left before I have to shuffle back to my office and dig in for another day of typing op reports and getting stiffed on the page counts, so I'll keeping wandering aimlessly through my thoughts in hopes of finding something worthwhile to write.

Or not.

At least I'll be able to stop this insanity early on Thursday, although probably not. I just won't get paid for it until next year because the office closes the books early on Thursday to make sure we get paid next week. I'd keep thinking of the money if only I wasn't so tired and achy and feel like I could drop off to sleep sitting at my desk in the midst of an involved and technical cardiothoracic surgery or penoplasty (that last one is cosmetic surgery of a kind on penises -- there have been a lot of those lately. Don't they grow normal penises any more?). Nothing like resurfacing the shaft of penises, glans wings and aortic valve replacements to make life interesting.

Or not.

That is all. Disperse.