Monday, September 05, 2005
Has martial law been declared in the Spitbull home?
Worse--soundly spanked and sent to bed without my (oyster) dinner.
Actually, our regular audience is so miniscule--ahem, possesses the uncommon intellect and refined taste required to breathe our rarefied air--that we feel comfortable fobbing off our work on them--ahem, bestowing upon them the great honor and tremendous responsibility of posting herein. In other words, you're next.