I wasn’t going to do NaBloPoMo this year. I did my own antisocial rogue version with Speaker7 last year, and remember thinking that I’d rather have my arm sawed off by a butter knife than do it again. When it rolled around this year, Speaker7 sent me a very threatening “do NaBloPoMo or you’re dead” e-mail. That, coupled with Rarasaur’s crazed enthusiasm over literate chili peppers, convinced me to give it another go.
I’m pretty sure this is the slippery slope that leads to people finding themselves in cults. I’ve somehow managed to narrowly escape that fate all of these years. The only cult I belong to is the one which worships Jack in the Box tacos.
Sips of Jen and Tonic 