Wednesday night blogtime

I am sad today. I still have a bruise on my hand from the IV this past Saturday.

Corpse Bride was good, but a bit morose from the lady-perspective. Two women, neither of whom has done anyone any wrong, are competing for the same man ... and the more interesting and wordly one loses out. Also, her skin is rotting off.

I have a new obsession, to write a series of stories entitled "The Adventures of Sticky McThrustypants, the Androgynous Porn Star."*

If you like, you might pick up the New York Times tomorrow morning. The spelling bee will appear in the Thursday Styles section.

My friend Dilip, to whom I have not spoken since the egg donation, inquired as to my well-being. He said "I'm glad to hear the procedure went well. At least, I gather that it did, because you were apparently well enough to buy Megan a quesadilla.... Not that one has to be in perfect health to buy a quesadilla."

I just wanted to share that. I may make a point of leaving people quesadillas in my will in demonstration of this very point.

*That's copyrighted. It's mine, beeotch, mine.