I'm back from vacation. But I'm not ready to talk about it.

I will say that I have bugbites hither and beyond yon and my living room looks like the Riders of the Vacation Apocalypse took on the Fisher-Price Little People. I actually appreciate this current mess because it covers the pumpkin-pie-orange puke stains (upchucked
Kit-n-kaboodle, my guess) the cat left for us to find upon return. I think she was so pissed about being stuck in the house, she meowed herself to a puking frenzy.

So you won't leave here without just a little somethin', here's a little ditty I once made up while trying to forget a heartache:

I flick and I flick
But you just won't go.
Your love is like a booger
On the finger of my soul.