I didn't think I'd get internet service on Olympus, but what do I know when I've spent the past 900 years freezing my goddamn ass off in no-man's-land? Modern miracles. Astrid doesn't have much use for these things. Last time I hooked it up, she watched me over my shoulder and said she'd sooner use the microwave -- fewer buttons. But hell, I love this thing. I lived alone up there so long, anything to while away a few minutes was a god(dess)-send. Astrid has her family -- her dear, fearsome sisters. I have my laptop.
I didn't hear from Jess while at Bora, Bora. Hell, I don't even know where the blasted place is. But I got an email from him letting me know he got back to Reno -- stupid pilot was an asshole -- with an attitude that I would be proud of.
Had a marvellous time trying to set this damned thing up. Registering is easy. It's the formatting that bites -- yeah, and I can't bite back, no fangs. Figured I'd post and see if I should just delete the whole shi-bang. Maybe I'll keep it, until those stupid Squires start with me for something.
Arsenic and vomit to all,
Prince Charming
No comments:
Post a Comment