Now Leaving The Bermuda Triangle

My apologies for the sudden and seemingly-neverending evaporation of this space yesterday. I got a pile of e-mail asking me if I'd relocated the site, taken it down and headed out to Tazmania, or, worse, taken ill by eating far too much ecoli-tainted spinach souffle.

Fortunately, none of those things has occurred -- yet. I don't eat spinach souffle -- it's not tasty enough to risk a long, painful, drawn-out death, like that derived from enjoying the tainted, dangerous delicacy that is blowfish. As for Tazmania, I haven't received the brochures from my travel agent, though I doubt I'd enjoy it there anyway; they have strange electrical outlets, far too few Starbucks and hordes of little creatures which everywhere around the world are referred to as Tazmanian devils (though interestingly enough, in Tazmania, they call them Sharptons).

As for relocating the site, that will soon happen. I've got the new digs being prepped as we speak, and once the relocation occurs, it will require one short click (and some reshuffling of your bookmarks, favorites or that little list of your favorite internet sites you keep magnetically affixed to your refrigerator) before you arrive at the new destination.

But until that day happens, the move is merely in the works. Yesterday's site absence, apparently, was the host's growing pains; there was some sort of intended outage -- a pleasant way of saying "the shit's hitting the fan at some point soon and we're letting you know ahead of time since we know it's going to happen" as opposed to one of those sudden screw-ups akin to the oxygen masks dropping from their overhead hiding places onto unsuspecting coach passengers.

On top of the disappearing act, it appears that the draft, rather than the final (not quite ready-for-publication) version, of my last post hit the virtual shelves. So if you managed to survive it once and enjoy sado-masochistic behavior, go back and re-read it in its shiny, intended glory. If you're one of those people that doesn't take pleasure in sniffing spoiled milk, don't bother.

In either case, I apologize for what amounts to a speed bump and suggest that if and when these things are within my control I'll make sure they don't perpetuate, and for those of you who have no clue to what I'm referring (or simply are here to more effectively learn English), read on.

Either way, thank you.

- The Management -