WebKittyn Warbles

Mother Nature is a spiteful old witch with a warped sense of humour.

All winter long I bitch about how there's no snow. How I want to move to Caribou, Maine and live in a place where it snows and snows. We had one storm last year, it was sad.

So now they're predicting snow. Snow in Southtown!

When?

MONDAY.

The day I'm supposed to be driving up north to the parents for Turkey Day. Not the day before, not the day after.

I am not amused.

I've got this long sappy holiday post I've been working for. I don't care what people say about the roots of Thanksgiving, I love going up there and I love being grateful for all the wonderful people and things in my life.

I've completely failed at NaNo. This doesn't really bother me, Peckerhead will one day come to fruition. I ran across a technical question I just could not find the answer for. It's hard to write a gorey crime novel if one doesn't have important facts that are accurate. I don't really need a month to try and write this. I commend anyone who completes it and I'll read a few but I blew it. There's always next year, gives me plenty of time to find out how long a person has to live after their (limp) penis is severed and they are constrained and can't escape. Not the sort of question you can pop out at work over the water cooler.

At least I'm keeping up with the daily posts, no matter how inane they may be.

That's me, Kittyn the inane. Love me.