Came down with a bad cold. Or the flu. Or Herod's Evil. Hemingway, it features a fever, a sore throat, and a runny nose. As usual, I contemplate my last will and testament etc. ygurvitz, you know the drill. The rest of you are welcome to cheer me up in witty and ingenious ways.

If I make it despite it all, I'll have a chance to thank you in person. If not, a fond adieu.

The music was not matched to the entry's content, I swear.

update: smashing earache, too. ygurvitz, be quick about that moosthead, damn you!