Who Let HIM in?

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," your alpha and omega for character-building and sensible solutions to pet stains on your furniture.

I want to know. What the hell went on here while I was out plying my trade? I go away just four short days, to judge goats, and in comes this "Mr. Applegate," stealing my site! I simply cannot get my foster kittens out from behind the drywall. They're mewing in sheer terror. My husband may have to tear down the wall. You can imagine how happy he is about that!

"Mr. Applegate?" Get your own doggone web site. And don't come here anymore. My resident fairies tell me that you've hidden the cream cheese, you stepped on my reading glasses, you did all the crossword puzzles my husband clipped for me, and you even purloined a jug of Berkeley Springs water from my basement. Excuse me, but if you want to improve your public image, this isn't the way to do it.

And how dare you take me to task for my opinions on Mick Jagger? Did I ask for an editor here? I hope you wake up one morning and find Mick Jagger, Billy Joel, Neil Diamond, and Barry Manilow all limbering up their vocal chords for a little barbershop quartet right under your window.

This is a serious web site. We talk about important, life-altering decisions, like what color to paint the foyer and whether or not one ought to take one's magic wand to the local observance of National Day of Prayer.

I'm sure all my faithful readers are breathing a sigh of relief that I'm back. Unfortunately, the goat-judging season is just now swinging into gear, and I'll be going hither and yon. I will be more vigilant about posting fairies at my desk, to keep the intruders out. Unfortunately, that will allow the fairies to play on this web site, and one can only imagine what they'll come up with.

Don't believe me? Right now they're downstairs, re-writing the National Anthem. They're giving it more difficult words, so that when people from Princeton sing it, they'll sound more intelligent. So far they've finished just a few lines:

Pardon me, but do you regard
In the developing daylight rays
What with arrogance we beheld
When the planet last rotated into darkness?

They will work on this drivel for hours. And then, just beforfe retiring for the night, they'll spill something sugary on the kitchen floor and make it look like my youngest daughter, The Spare, is to blame.

If you have fairies in your house, you know exactly what I mean.
ANNE IS BACK, AND THERE'S GONNA BE TROUBLE