When I say Buddha, you say machine! Buddha! ... Buddha!

Hey. Not much to say, but I didn't want anyone thinking I was dead over here, accidentally crushed under the laughable weight of my own 80's and 90's pre-recorded cassettes collection, with no one to find my flat magnetized corpse but Buster. I've been kind of living it up here while Alison endures barely-heard-of relatives in ultrahip Saskatchewan. You know: going out every night to play pool or tennis, watching movies, cooking fancy food, and playing the guitar for days at a stretch. Generally not fixing the place up. I did move some cushions from one room to another this evening before heading out to yoga class. Poor Ali will be home tomorrow night at 10:32. Whether she'll be better off I leave for you to decide, but I'll be happy to see her.

I'm working on designing some phony money, à la Canadian Tire, at work, and it's making me realize how much fun it would be to design real currency. All those nice engravings and Spirograph-like lines made out of tiny "Bank of Canada"s and stuff. I wonder who gets to do that?

Has anyone else heard about this crazy Mars viewing we're supposedly going to have in August? I hear it's going to grow bigger and bigger every night for awhile, until it's the size of a full moon! Can this really be possible? Where's the Star Hustler when you really need him? I'm freaking out! I am freaking oouut!

And finally, I remembered to go to the post office on my lunch today to get a money order and send away for the buddha machine. I can't wait 'til it gets here — it'll be just like when I got those two-way space phones from Bazooka Joe comics. Only good.

- Andrew