Elton John says he “wouldn’t be hetero for all the money in the world”. That’s the first thing on the web that’s cracked me up in two weeks. But hel-lo!? Elton? Sorry, but you’re not the “piano man.” Billy Joel is the piano man. Everybody knows that.

To the bastard pissing off Nicci: Knock it off! I miss my Kitty Noir!!

Eight hours wasted. That virus toasted my entire machine. In order to keep it from spreading, they had to shut down all our Internet access too. So I literally couldn’t do anything all day long.

On top of that annoyance, we’ve now had two days in a row of “London weather”, which means gray, rainy, windy, cold, and disgusting. The niceness of summer almost made me forget what the winter brings. I don’t know if I can take six months of this. Mama Snookums, you better start sending us the Classifieds. We need jobs and an apartment. Get me outta here!

Scary new Micro$oft virus on the loose… And guess whose work machine is infected? From what I’ve seen, it’s already spreading throughout the company. It’s a bitch too. If you’re running any version of Windows, watch out.

Gift-track is officially dead. It’s such a weird feeling to have spent eight months of your life working on something only to see it literally disappear within the next year.

Max saw Mansfield Park the other day, which I love. I saw it on a flight back from the U.S. last year. I had one of those little TV screens with all the channels, and they went through the cycle of movies three times. So I saw Mansfield Park, and then I watched Three to Tango (which was short so I got to flip back over and see the end of Mansfield Park again), and then I started to watch What Lies Beneath (but that was crappy, so I watched Mansfield Park yet again). Yes, I watched the film three times during an eight hour flight. It’s that good. Embeth Davidtz is a delicious beeatch, and Jonny Lee Miller is yummy as always. And Frances O’Connor is just perfect. (I’m choosing to ignore her horrid, horrid turn in Bedazzled.) She’s apparently starring as Maggie the Cat in the revival of “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” in London. With Brendan Fraser as Brick. My sister and I are so there.

“Afghan Clerics Postpone Meeting on Bin Laden.” I’ve been playing too much MUD. “Clerics” means something entirely different to me now.

Snookums and I started planning our big Christmas holiday today. The original idea was to get “around the world” tickets and stop in the States to see my mom’s new baby before heading off to Australia in time for New Year’s. Along the way we thought we could stop in New York, or Vegas, or Tokyo, or Europe… Now, of course, everything’s up in the air. I never thought I’d be trying to plan a vacation around a war.

Oh yeah. Home sick. Go me. (*sniff*)

Just when I think things are finally starting to resemble normalcy again, something happens to make my blood boil and my heart race. Jerry Falwell went on television Thursday and blamed me for Tuesday’s terrorist attacks. Yes, he did. Here’s what he said:

“I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People for the American Way – all of them who have tried to secularize America – I point the finger in their face and say, ‘You helped this happen.’”

Here I thought being a feminist was about earning equal pay for equal work and fighting for women’s rights. Unbeknownst to me, it also apparently involves pissing God off so that He rains down fire, brimstone, and passenger planes on normal, God-fearing, Republican, heterosexual, non-feminist white folk. Good to know. And to all my pagan and gay friends that simply want to be left alone to worship and love however they see fit, that goes for you too. We’re all to blame, apparently.

The bastard did apologize, but only after everybody from President Bush on down condemned his remarks. I believe in free speech, but I really have a problem with racist, sexist, reactionary idiots giving it such a bad name.