Who Can Tame the Wild Nils? Not You.

I must warn you, ladies. I am a dangerous man. There is no telling when my fickle nature will turn and I will bust out a broom and sweep the kitchen floor on a Friday night. I may erupt into laundry while meeker men cruise clubs and ride their Ninjas through darkened alleyways. I may even, without warning, whip up a mess of Nils Fried Rice after a week of little else than reading ActionScript day in and day out. Beware! You cannot tame ... that which is not wild to begin with.

So tomorrow I will wait for the cable guy, then venture into the snowy reaches of the Mile High City for haircuts, wood glue, and comestibles of a staple nature. Good Friday to you all. I just hope it is good enough.