I'm terribly sorry for not keeping everybody up to date. I got approximately two hours of sleep in last night before Anya woke me up by sinking ten claws into my rib cage and howling the howl of a werewolf in labor.

What proceeded was another ten hours of the man attempting to comfort the woman in a completely unsuccessful manner. I earned some "lover's points" by supplying hot towels and letting her crush my hands. I lost an entire table, because I gave her the legs for her to bite down on. It was either that or my arms. Considering that she snapped through all four - one for each major contraction, I think the cost of a table was worth it.

Now, all you established parents out there, you know what it's like. Those Normal Rockwell-esque pictures showing a happy, clean, sweatless new mother holding her clean, almost-shiny baby is an absolute freaking LIE. I think the movie "Freddy VS Jason" had less screaming and less blood.

But, there is that moment of beauty. The moment when you can embrace your mate with your broken hands, she's winding down - covered in blood and sweat - and there's that moment of oblivious happiness as your new mother is nursing your eight children, and both of you drift in and out of consciousness. Her - from CHILDBIRTH - and you - because despite the fact you were not physically involved, it still is freaking stressful and you've had no sleep.

Four boys, four girls. They weigh about a pound apiece. I made a weak comment about while although we didn't get "seven," we did get the "darker," but it turns out that this is just their baby fur, and they'll develop their lighter colors as they grow.

I believe I only got up once in the twelve hours that followed to get food for myself and Anya.


Enigma - Le Roi Est Mort, Vive Le Roi - The Child In Us (Anya adores this album and the flow of the music - I highly recommend it)

7

i have anya smack me around with a pillowcase filled with one hundred dollar bills

Just as I was thinking that I can finally relax and goof off, I give myself more work to do.

I'm fairly certain you all remember about two years back, my computer blew up, and in haste I assembled a $500 computer that has held up to this day? I think you should remember, I whined about it a lot.

My new project is to build a monster computer. Keeping in mind that when I say monster computer, I am in fact referring to a monster computer that I can afford. My original designs called for hardware that would cost more than $3,200 for the processors and the RAM *ALONE*. Forget even the $3,000 for the video cards.

Is it possible for me to spend about $15,000 on a computer? Oh, yes. Do I even have $15,000? Oh, no.

But what I am getting, is the legendary "V-Silent" 2100 Lian-Li case for my new tower. Mere words cannot describe. But I will take pictures of the whole thing when I'm done. I'm estimating I'll be done somewhere in mid-August, and the cost will be something around $1,500.

I'd like to point out that this, plus the fact that I don't have any Rocket Pants, is a clear indication that life is somehow not fair. At least I have "Her Royal Fuzzbutt."


Real Life - Lifetime - God Tonight

7

waiter! fresh underwear!

Recently, a certain estrogen-soaked man-killer of a fuzzball rubbed up against me, and asked in a very sweet, cooing tone about the procurement of pickles. I thought it was a joke - that whole thing about pregnant women and the desire for pickle juice amongst other things. Aside from just being a nice guy, I can't resist that sultry voice.

So, I go out an buy a one-gallon glass jar full of giant pickles. Upon my return, I found myself rapidly accelerating towards the floor as the aforementioned werewolf dropped down from the ceiling and directly onto my back, grabbing the pickle jar out of my hands before I'm halfway down.

The resounding snap of my spine was complimented by the sound of supernatural muscles popping the airtight jar open at unheard-of speeds. Through the pain, I could only JUST turn my head to watch as Anya, almost reverently, grabbed a pickle, and placed it into her muzzle. The crunching sounds she made for the next couple of minutes mimicked the sound my back was making as she rocked back and forth in a pickle-induced ecstasy on the shattered remnants of what used to hold me upright.

The empty jar clunked down on the floor, and a pickle-juice-soaked tongue licked me upside my face. "I love yooooouuuuuu."

I squeaked in a most un-masculine fashion, "Back... crushed... into... gravel..."

She scooped me up like a doll, threw me over her shoulder, and patted my back, "I love that too. And hey!"

She grabbed my hands and rubbed them over her solidly-rounded belly, "When these are born, they can jump on your back too!"

(Anya claims that I cried and twitched all the way to the hospital.)


Epsilon Minus - Mark II - Futurepop Muzik (Pop Muzik)

7

Colvard's Logical Premise: All probabilities are 50%. Either a thing will happen or it won't.

I was out driving up Highway 217, going well above the speed limit as I am wont to do, when I pass this massively modified Chevy. It's one of those models that has two wheels up front, and four wheels in the back. The goober driving it has it on a massive suspension system, all polished, chrome accented, and on the back window, there was a sticker proclaiming, "Size Matters."

Aside from the obvious comments about "compensating," one has to wonder, "When did the 'macho' clique decide that having a truck designed like a woman's platform shoe was 'manly?'"


Daft Punk - Homework - Revolution 909

7

computer! show me images of unmitigated sexual deviancy!

Wow. We are seriously into the Dog Days of Summer. That, combined with the fact that I've

**FINALLY**

managed to automate all of my computer coding, means that I'm finding myself sitting around, just waiting for my work to get done for me. Can you imagine? All those prior blog posts of mine, where I mentioned sheer volumes of work I had piled before me? I have PC tools now, that enable all that to be done without my supervision. Literally, all I have to do is sit around - and all that work will be done for me over time.

And, during the eight days (!) it's been since I've last posted, I've been lying around, mostly - and sometimes totally - naked, spread-eagled, and listening to Enigma softly playing on my sound system. The heat has reduced Anya to imitating me, lying around and panting rapidly. In order for me to obtain use of the fans that she has surrounded herself with, I assure her on a daily basis that "her Amazonian sexiness has totally shattered my view of other women, and that - at best - I am only worthy enough to kiss her toes." Only after that do I get a fan. (She knows that the "worthiness" part is hard for me to say, so she coerces me to say it frequently.)

At one point, we arranged all of the fans in the house into a wide circle, and made a giant tornado of papers, plastic bags, and light household items. And the whole spectacle was more amusing than watching TV.

So, just letting you know, I'm not dead.


Enigma - Voyageur - In The Shadow, In The Light

7

Cole's Law: Thinly sliced cabbage.