My muse must have gone on vacation. For two days now I’ve tried to think of something to write, so that I can bury the picture of Michael Phelps standing alongside John Kerry because if I don’t Big Hair Envy is going to send a posse out to kill me. It could be that my muse is afraid to write now that I’ve been threatened with a subpoena.
Any-ole-how, since I’ve nothing to write about, I thought you might want to write to yourselves over at a site called Future Me. You can type up a little email, tell it when to send it, and then forget about it until it arrives in your inbox. There’s also a bunch of other people’s emails you can read, which will provide a few laughs.