it's confirmed: my baby's got the bends.

Can't get the stink out, he's been hanging round for days. I might have to take some decisive action: beard-shaving or, God save us, dancing. And, of course, getting a priest out here to chase off the demons with holy water regardless of what course of action gets taken. Life's a bummer when you're a hummer. Well, I've only made a resolution against one of those for this calendar year, but I'll wait to see how things pan out.

Other resolutions: The Anatomy of Melancholy is brilliant and I need a copy. Theft is evil. Books which are $100 new and $4 used are lame, even if you didn't spend $100 on them. Having a book recalled two days after checking it out is weak. Letters which turn out to require more postage than you thought when you only had change for a regular stamp are a tool of Satan. I am addicted to oil.

I'm also working on a poem that scans well and rhymes about how 238,507,387,432 in infinity. Note the change.