We interrupt the bitching in progress...
I need to interrupt my latest rant to bring you the following message.
After two weeks of working 7 days a week (the demand for Yo-Yos lately has exceeded all of our projected sales models), I am bone-tired and soul-weary. I am full of Fukit, and it is threatening to tach out my Givadam. On top of that, I am in constant pain from (what I hope is only) gallstones.
Since I am reluctant to part with any more body... er, uh, parts*, I found a treatment that doesn't involve scapels, anesthesia, or naughty little gowns that don't close in the back. The problem is that it takes one full day of treatments every half hour, and then another day to recover from the treatments. Yeah. Welcome to Hell.
Maybe one day soon I will go into detail about how well our children are being so supportive at this time of crisis. The short version is that they have taken to yelling and beating each other in an attempt to alleviate me of that responsibility. Isn't that sweet?
Aretta, my darling, beleaguered wife, is at this moment, trying to suck the residual dust from her empty bottle of St. John's Wort in between long pulls on her Heineken bottle.
I'll get back to you.
*Yo-Yo winding can be very dangerous.