When Stressed. . . .

I turn to nonsense to help me relax. Like Mojo. I love Mojo. http://www.mojothemonkey.net/ . Hopefully I will finish my dissertation before he reproduces the works of Shakespeare. Why can't I be as diligent as little Mojo, typing away? Sure he doesn't have to think, and he's making no sense whatsoever, and I've been watching him for about 5 minutes and he's made the words "dry" and "joy" and nothing else but jibberish, so it may be a close race between him and me. But if you click on his mouth, he gives you a nice greeting. So he's got that going for him. Which is nice.

And please, oh please, check out some of these:

http://pixyland.org/peterpan/photo_closeups_pp6.htm

http://pixyland.org/peterpan/petersFashionPage.html

http://pixyland.org/peterpan/photo_closeups_sb1.htm

Really the best is that this is his "every day wear": http://pixyland.org/peterpan/photo_closeups_dd1.htm

It boggles the mind. And for the crackheads among you, see here.

Ok, it's time for me to hit the hay and prep for my fun trip back to the Midwest tomorrow! And poor Mojo. Bugger still hasn't produced a single word since "joy" like 10 min ago. He's got diligence. I'll give him that! I'm like, oooh, he's bound to produce a word soon, so I'll wait until he does before I go to bed. This is probably a bad idea. . . . I'm just saying.

Good night, and good luck, all, especially poor dipshit Mojo.