THE GREAT GADFLY:

Postscripts From The Edge

1. A day after writing a resolute "take this job and..." statement of intent at the beginning of the week, I was called into my boss' office and given a raise. I was told I served as a positive role model for the rest of the staff, and was given a written review that read like a love letter. Oh, good grief. Fortunately, I was worked like Jennifer Jason Leigh at the end of "Last Exit To Brooklyn" the next day, so my glory faded with the quickness and so the job hunt continues.

2. Just a word to the wise: If you want me to sign your e-mail WMD petition, please don't make your appeal using any name that originated from a Cheech n' Chong movie. No disrespect - I'm speaking sheerly from a marketing perspective here - just trust me on this.

3. After a series of unsavory Friendster shenanigans, I've been asked by a wacky artists collective to assist on a writing project in which I offer advice to the lovelorn, in the guise of an anthropomorphized characterization of the Death Star. She's a fun-loving gal who has a reactor core of gold and is making her dreams come true via enrollment in a real estate course, blowing up the Greedo planet, and the Atkins Diet. Check it out here.

4. This album is SO The Deal that I can't even really go into it with you right now. I'm on my big Diarrhealand hiatus after all, you see. Just find it. It's just ridiculously good. You'll poop yourself.

5. This album is kicking my ass too, but why wouldn't it?

6. Our president reminds me of Garth from "Wayne's World", only without the Camaro. My vote could be swayed if our president were to play drums at a U2 concert. Not swayed enough to actually vote for him, but perhaps long enough to take a fond-yet-brief pause. And that's all I have to say about that.