Gentlemen, we need to talk.

The balance of power in my home has shifted.

Since the arrival of my new (female) roommate, this place has been lousy with girls. Both my roommates are girls, their friends are girls, and even my neighbors are girls! I walk into the living room and there they sit, knitting, doing their hair, and not talking about whatever it was they were talking about before I entered the room. And don't ever believe that crap about the weaker sex. When I innocently suggested that we all strip down to our underwear and have a pillow/water fight, I was answered by a grim silence, a brandishing of knitting needles, and that look a woman gets when she is calculating just how hard she'll have to kick you in the groin to completely sterilize you. Guys, you know the look I'm talking about.

There is the occasional male around. I have arrived home to Matt Summerfield drunkenly playing The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past on the Super Nintendo a few times, but other than that, it's all girls. And I fear it has begun to take it's toll.

I found myself contemplating what kind of curtains would look best in my room. When I realized what I had just thought, I hit myself to knock me back to my senses. I recoiled in horror when I realized that I hadn't so much hit myself as slapped myself. It wasn't even a back-handed smack, it was with an open palm.

The horror. The horror.

I fear it will get worse. I may even start washing the dishes.

I can't allow this.

I have some old computer monitors. I say we get drunk, take them out into the desert, and shoot the hell out of them. But wait, that may not be enough...

Okay, we rig up some sort of catapult, set the computers on fire, launch them into the air and THEN shoot them! Hopefully the pieces will fall onto and kill some large animal, which we can then cook.

That should do it. And if not, we could always play Shot-Fox. Or 007: Goldeneye, aka the Man with the Golden Rum.

* * * * *

I was going to work on Dana's interview, but I was somehow led astray. I spent much of the past hour searching for harmonica tablatures. I found I Just Called To Say I Love You and that Killing Me Softly song. They both look pretty tough and should require a lot of practice. Pity my roommates.

* * * *

I'm up late again. From what I understand, there are others up as well. Just hit up my screenname, if you wish. I am usually up for late-night Mexican food excursions, inpromptu carousel rides, and driving up to the top of the parking structure at Sky Harbor Airport and being astounded that those giant metal tubes with wings actually fly.

* * * *

I am writing a story about hippopotamuses. Hippopotamusses? Hippopotami? Either way, I need characters. So far I have Hip-opotamus, Lame-opotamus, Lotapotamus, and Notapotamus. If you want to be one, let me know. I'll be able to fit you all in, there's a huge jungle rave scene.

* * * * *

Gurg News Update:

Still mostly confused, now with a slight chance of discouragement. Good possibility of haughty laughter to hide chagrin. And you can definitely expect a whole lotta playin' it by ear.

Lost the Batman and comic book ads banners I enjoyed being exploited by. Hopefully saying Batman and comic-books multiple times will help the Batman and comic book banners find their way home. Batman.