I've been writing long posts lately. Too long, perhaps. So today, I will confine myself to a simple toast: to the Republic!

Sorry. In fact, what I will confine myself to is an observation that sometimes I'll be sitting somewhere (reading, perhaps, or working on the computer), and I'll be really, really uncomfortable. And all I would have to do is shift around or uncross my legs or whatever, but I don't. I sort of want to, but I don't. I just stay like that, getting more and more uncomfortable, until I absolutely canNOT stand it anymore, and then I'll finally get creakily to my feet, feeling like an eighty-year-old woman.

Is it prodigious laziness, or remarkable tenacity? You decide.


  1. I see our friend the Baron de Bats does not share in our toast?

    On the contrary, I am a very good friend of the Republic.

    I believe, rather, that the Baron is a friend, of profit. Willing to sell his allegience to the highest bidder.

    It would seem, Madam, that my presence here this evening is giving you distress.

    (forgive me--you'll have to correct the quotes as needed. I have no access to the movie, so it's been a few years since I've seen it)

  2. I absolutely love the amount of Scarlet P quotes that fly about around here.


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