The Lost Realm

I am famous.

No, wait; not that sort of famous. No one is queuing outside my door to get my autograph in the morning or climbing my back fence to catch half-naked photos as I dash through the kitchen on a 2am emergency chocolate run. Er, not that I do that. Nope.

Where was I? Oh yes.

I am currently the number one hit on Google for chickeny. If you know me or you have read the post on the other side of that link then you know exactly how ironic that is. To this day, I still do not eat chicken, yet I am now the world’s expert on things “chickeny”.

Mr Intertron, you never cease to amuse me.

So, what’cha been up to?

Me? Well, my computer died and I had a chunk of my big toe cut off.

I guess that’s about all I… what do you mean, “you want details”? Okay, okay; gosh you people are insistent.

My home computer decided that since I took off a week over Christmas/New Years (Merry Chew Nears, and all that) hoping to relax and maybe do some computery things, it was the perfect time for my 60G drive to die (unrecoverably) (bye, bye Windows), and for my 320G drive to start giving me all sorts of weird SATA time-outs and errors. I have no spare SATA hardware to test things on, so I’ve since avoided it completely in some desperate hope that it will magically be fixed the next time I boot it up. I think that’s a perfectly acceptable response to the situation.

I’ve also been just a little busy having my leg removed. Well, my foot. Would you believe toe? Half a toe? Okay, just a bit of my toe.

Last year I (very cleverly) dropped a rather heavy old monitor (corner first) onto my big toe. This made just a little mess of it. No, not the monitor; my toe. Yes, the monitor is fine.

I thought it might just heal itself, but the nail was heavily ingrown. So now (watch how I dodge all the really cool details for those readers with weaker constitutions?) I have half a toenail and a big hole that needs to heal up. It’s okay; I got to watch everything get sliced ‘n’ diced, so it works out alright. (No, Seb, there is no video)

So now I’m wondering what to do for the rest of 2007 to top all that. Any ideas?

Also, why is it that my fingers always type “tow” when I mean “toe”? (Are you listening fingers? That isn’t good enough! See what happened to big toe when he didn’t comply with my wishes? Huh? Huh?)

Dadda, is God watching over us?

I think we’ve had this conversation before, Romilly. Mamma believes in God, but Dadda doesn’t.

Does that mean that you’re not going heaven?

I don’t know that I believe in heaven, if I don’t believe in God.

Dadda, God exists.

Oh.

Yes, he’s up in the sky, sitting on the clouds. At the North Pole.

The North Pole?

Yes, that’s where his workshop is.

Romilly, I don’t think that Santa is supposed to be God.