Well, Crud.

As some of you know, Jen and I spent this past weekend at Dragon*Con in Atlanta, which was awesome. However, part of the "fun" of this particular convention is that you get to share your personal space with 50,000 other geeks, many of whom are sweating disease through their Superman tights or are too burdened with enormous fake weaponry to cover their mouths before coughing in your eyes.

Which is all to say that Jen is currently sick as a dog. (Although I've never seen a dog whine as much as Jen, so I can only assume she must be sicker.) (Actually, I've never seen a sick dog at all. Who comes up with these clichés, anyway?)

So, baby?  Because I love you, I'm writing today's post.  No, no... don't thank me. You just stay right over there and keep folding that laundry; I wouldn't want the wrinkles to set. Oh, and I could use a refill. No rush! Just when you're done crushing the ice.

 *Ahem*

And SPEAKING of sick dogs...

 Hey, Sweetie, this remind you of anything?

HAHAHAHA!

 Sweetie? Where ya goin'? Jen?

 Hello?

 ****

 Well, I guess I better wrap this up. So...

Here's to Jen's speedy recovery! And really ugly golf balls.

You're welcome, baby.

(Say, my throat's starting to feel a little scratchy. And now Jen's staring at me with a creepy grin on her face. Should I be worried?)

Thanks to Shelli K., for the...  ah... ACHHOOO!!!  Oh crap...