Thank you very much, and goodbye

I just had a telephone marketing individual explain to me with a kind of dreary impatience that because this was in fact my phone number and because I was in fact married to Karen, therefore I was in fact Mr Williams, however much I might like to deny it; and how are you today, Mr Williams?

Well, by then I was fucking seething. I may have hung up on her, in a less mannerly fashion than the subject-line might suggest, before she ever found an opportunity to say what she was selling.

In other news, these cats understand the physics of surface area and temperature control. In England they used to curl up like little cannonballs for sleeping, coiling around the heart of their own heat. Here they sprawl, they sleep stretched out, as open as they can be to all this California.

They still try to sleep more hours than the day can actually contain. Me, I have been awake since 4am. I would've tried that stretching-out trick to see if it works for humans too, only Barry had the space below my knees staked out already, so I had to curl up and sigh.

It's I don't know how many miles to Chicago. I've got two bottles of wine and I've given up cigarettes, it's hot and I'm writing steampunk.

Awww...

Did we know that the Mars Curiosity rover is tweeting? Follow @MarsCuriosity, if you're as slow as I am to pick up on these things. (Chaz dear, of course the Mars Curiosity rover is tweeting...)

13 days to landing...

#ZeppMe

(In the interests of balance and fair shares, I should probably also mention that my other favourite flying machine, the Zeppelin that operates in the Bay Area, also tweets, as @AirshipEureka - I waved when it flew over the farmers' market a few weeks ago, and I'm fairly sure it waved back...)