Wednesday, August 16, 2006

My Ass


We appear to have fallen off the internet superhighway. It is, perhaps, predictable to consider what happens to the novice blogger (such as this correspondent) when life starts to happen at an accelerated pace. Right now, we have our girl who will be 2 next month, and our son, who is now one month old, both are healthy, reasonably good sleepers, we are healthy, Mo is a good sleeper... things are hectic, occasionally tempestuous, but full of sweet-tasting moments which, while I will not remember them, I will savour as they come.

Given the likely absence of readers, I think this may be a good time to talk about my ass. It is, for starters, located on my backside. I like it there, it means I can't see it.

Before I hit critical ass here, and in terms of this blog, I admit to caring less. I have started the 100 records death march to completely boring boringness (that's my take, on reviewing my list, and not a comment on any other list. l'Homme des Crouton has prepared an enjoyable read in the form of a 100-record list, for example) and I could care less if I finish it. I have read maybe 3 blogs of late, with no consistency, and I don't mind. My comments have assumed an acerbic tone which I am not ready to accept as being of me.

Contributing to this approach is the fact I took July off and returned to work to a poo-storm of significant proportions. I am so overwhelmed right now I am typing this rather than face my desk and the trial which I am scheduled to defend in starting tomorrow. Or the one starting in two weeks. Or the stuff I have yet to finish from earlier this month which is a little time-sensitive. Call me an ostrich if you will but I won't hear you. My head is in the sand.

Normally, I prefer to keep it in my ass. Not now, however, because I traditionally get a case of "court ass" whenever I am involved in lengthy or particularly contentious court appearances. Court ass is a condition which requires numerous and unsatisfying trips to the loo. Enough said.

Is this too much information? I don't know, and frankly my dears... you know the rest.

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