Editing (more like rewriting) the banal prose stylings of poorly paid (for good reason!) pixel-stained wretches reminds me of why I gave up journalism. Ah well, it's (a very modest) living. In other scraping-by-until-I-get-a-real-job news, my career as a pastry chef is over. It's been over, actually, for quite some time. I mention it now because I'm nostalgic for those (brief) halcyon days. In the meantime, I'm available for parties.