The Staples report: she dutifully reported to her interview this morning and fifteen minutes later was upstairs in my office pondering how she was going to decline the offer. An enthusiastic ‘join the team’ was put out there for her to grasp, but veiled behind the smile was a minimum wage counter monkey job. She is pacing along Broadway right now. I don’t think I’ll be getting any discounts in the near future.

On the upswing, my cuzin’ Stephen is depositing himself on my doorstep in a little under a week. Not that I have a doorstep: it’s more of an overhanging rainshelter with little buttons to call various suites to get into the building. Unless of course you count the actual suite door, but then it isn’t a doorstep either, but more of a raised lip where my carpet is separated from the carpet in the hallway, and where the door sits when I’m not using it. It’s not very special, but it’s mine.

And this is what some would call brain candy.

A recent tour of the local toy store has revealed that PS2s have come down significantly in price: hmmm… seriously considering…