Hey Gang,
 
Made it through the last day of classes, on three hours sleep and with a
migraine.  Both are just the thing for philosophy at 8:30am.  Trust me.
 
Speaking of, my teacher gave me until next Friday for the extra credit paper
so I will be doing it after all.  Unfortunately, this will probably postpone
my trip a few days.  But hey, I have been doing that since I moved here.  If
I ever do actually set foot in Houston again, they will have to send me off
to the hospital in shock!
 
DS-female??!!??  Big Guns??!!??  Long One??!!??  I won't touch that with a
10 inch, er ahem, I mean foot pole.
 
This is way off subject, but I will try and sneak it in.  Any literary types
who are interested in Lacan, there will be a symposium here the end of June.
Write me if your interested.
 
Last night, while I waging an e-mail war (ok, heated discussion) and trying
to finish up my portfolio, I heard this crunching of paper sound.  I look
over to my dining room table, with chairs the obligitory 3 feet away, only
to see Miss Stella.  How she got there, who knows.  Teleportation.  I had
two sacks of unpacked groceries, which contained boxed stuff and pears.  She
had scrunched down the corner of the pear sack and was trying to drag the
whole thing off the table!!  My l.25lb fert vs.  the sack.  I went over, put
her down and was cussed out for my effort.  Sat back down for more typing,
only to hear thud....thud....thud.  Looked back at the table to witness
Mighty Stella pelting the other ferrets with pears!
 
Between her and the Pookster, I am fast becoming an expert in
ferret-proofing.  Or at least one who lives with bruised fruit.
 
Maggie Mae and the Incredible Stella (I was a bombadier in a former life)
[Posted in FML issue 1928]