2003-11-03

Hey dudes! My new article is up on Chicklit. Please try to contain your excitement. However, feel free to get a violent cramp in your haste to participate in Deborah�s super fantastico �We Put The �Fun� in Fundraiser!� drive. (OK, that�s not actually what it�s called. But it should be.) Prizes! Excitement! Boobies! Maybe not really boobies!

Hey, remember these guys? The Cloak-and-Dagger Carpenters? They�re back. BUT! It is not carpentry this time that rouses me from my slumber. Allow me to explain. Saturday morning, as I lay innocently huddled in under my bedclothes praying to God for merciful death, like all civilized people should be on a Saturday morning, I was distracted from the unholy throbbing of my cranium by an unholy din outside my window. Monster called me soon after, and I attempted to describe what was going on.

�It�s like�a clank, and a thud; and then lots of screaming and cheering. Like �Woo! Yeah!� Like a game, or a sporting event, or something. It�s fucking DEAFENING. Who the fuck can be that enthusiastic about anything at this hour of the morning? Are they drunk? Like, what, are they playing horseshoes out there or something?�

Soon after that, when I was feeling a little more up to verticality, as it were, I struggled to my elbows in bed and peered out the window.

Horseshoes.

No, really.

The Midnight Contractors were playing a raucous round of horseshoes at 10:00 AM. Who the everlasting fuck plays horseshoes anyway? I thought you had to be either in summer camp or named �Jeb� to be so inclined.

Anyway, after long considering the preponderance of evidence, I have returned my verdict: I hate my freak bastard neighbours.