August 20, 2003
feast

Here I am, complaining about not having any work to do - any paying work, that is - and all of the sudden, three gigs fall on me in one day. I think I can manage two out of three, easy - and the one that I'm not crazy about is the one that's most likely to fall through - but we'll see what needs doing, and when. My rates are almost a third of what they were in the Good Old Days, but I can still make four months mortgage in a full week - before taxes, of course. Seeing how I have, uh, zero taxable income so far this year, though, I don't think that's going to be a huge issue. Plus - evil accountant, and lots of valid writeoffs, so I might even come out ahead, unless I work too much. Ha!

Of course, this working for the Man takes time away from my personal stuff, just as I was getting rolling, too. I attribute this to a galactic conspiracy of time travellers, trying to prevent me from accomplishing some crucial task that will eventually spell the undoing of their decadent, futuristic civilization. Something to do with killer robots, I think.

And, just because I can't find it anywhere else, here's the cipher that Bogey finds in The Big Sleep. I've never figured out the code, and I don't think they really do anything with it in the movie. I think it's all bunk.

(August 20, 2003 11:00 PM)
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