Miscellaneous: A Note From The Management

For reasons large and small, petty and profound, and far too numerous to mention, I would like to say the following:

Fuck February 2007. Fuck it right in the ear.

The shortest month of the year was too long for me by a damn sight, and I am counting the minutes – no, the seconds – nay, the nanoseconds until it comes to an end.

I never want to hear from this month again. Heather Rene Smith, Playboy’s Miss February 2007? You’re dead to me. I know it’s going to be rough on you. Deal with it. Any and all February 2007 Employees of the Month, from Kinko’s to Starbucks? If you see me, you’d better run.

It’s nothing personal. But I’ve got to take out my wrath on someone, because I can’t do what I want to do. Which is trap February 2007 in a dark alley, unleash years of training in Krav Maga, the ancient art of Sinanju, and some badass shit I made up myself, and kill it stone dead without mercy. I want February 2007 to look into my eyes and know that its moment of reckoning is at hand.

But I can’t do that, because February 2007 is only a month. And it’s almost over.

Meaning that March is coming. In like a lion, I hope, and let it go out like a lamb so long as it vanquishes my sworn enemy, the month of February 2007.

We’ll return to our regularly scheduled programming right after this.