This is not my blog.

This isn't really my blog. The real me is at another site; a site that crashed 3 or 4 days ago and is inoperable for at least another week. The site owners had to mail the drives containing all the site information to someone who could raise it from the dead, and the word is that recovering everything will cost more money than the site generated last year. If I were the owner, I might have to consider shutting the place down forever. Not that I'm advocating that.

That's why (if anyone is reading this at all) you're going to see a lot of crazy, sad, weird, scattered, nonsensical posts from me for a while. Because that's who I am at the other place, and well, that's who I am. In the immortal words of Marshall (Slim Shady) (Eminem) Mathers, "All I can do is be myself."

In other news, it's bitterly cold. It's the kind of cold that sticks to your skin long after you've gone indoors, that makes you want to wear an undershirt like your mom used to make you do, that tempts you to touch a metal pole with your tongue. Huh? It's late January weather, and I'm disappointed in it. If the weather were a student, and I were weather's teacher, I would give it an F minus. Or a minus 20 F.