(Woof.)

I don't know if I mentioned this yet, but...the only reason that blog entries continue to appear here at Dr. Desiree's Fantastikal Whiz-Bang Pharmacoepia Immaculata n' Thrifty Fun*Pak-o-Rama O' Day-Glo Photos is because I paid the gal who lives downstairs $15 to use her airport signal. So she gave me her password, which was her name + her boyfriend's name + her dog's name. (In case you're wondering, she has long, curly blond hair and owns a pit bull that's uglier than Phil Spector.) Anyway, due to the fact that $15 only goes so far these days, I pretty much have to sit in the stairwell to get a decent signal. I don't like sitting in the stairwell. These stairs...they...emit a foul odor...

PLUS, all my neighbors think I'm up to no-damn-good out here in the stairwell with my laptop. But whatevah. Tonight's a Foxhead night, so I have prepared my liver n' kidneys to do what they must, which is to take one for the team. And the team's goal? To say, "Hello Iowa City. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm the Jon*Dog. (Woof.)"