I’ve started this little experiment in catharsis/therapy/entertainment with the intention of making it a regular and somewhat consistent publication. I don’t write anything in advance, as part of the challenge seems to be to create an “episode” on only current office events and memories, with as little embellishment as possible. Therefore, when I move from one apartment to another in what turned out to be a paradoxical frigid monsoon and got sick I missed writing and publishing Friday’s “episode”. I won’t say this will never happen again, I’ll just say that when it happens again, I will most likely be laid up in a blankety cocoon with a barricade of antihistamine, expectorant, and decongestant boxes, capped by a hazardous and toxic array of tissues that have dried into almost-origami shapes that resemble such ancient Chinese standards as snot cranes, booger flowers, and mucus sailboats. Despite my lucid, waking Nyquil dreams and my fever induced insomnia, I still feel the need to apologize. So, I apologize. Now go to bed, have sex, or click on over to Club Jenna and masturbate.
-The Trixter
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