Good Job! You Know What That Means.

Nothing.
I checked my e-mail first thing this morning, very first thing because I was still in bed. iPhones, is there anything they can't do?
Very exciting, because this blog got a comment, which implied I had a reader, and they said, "Good job!!!!!!!!!!!" I published it right then and there. It wasn't till I came upstairs to look at the comment on a life-size screen that I realized that the exclamation points were a link and when I clicked on it, it went to a porn site. I've resisted the temptation to click on google's "Monetize" button and now some merchant of smut was going to try to make money off my reader. Not on my watch.

Later today, I was standing on the Wii Fit trying to hold the Palm Tree yoga pose. The little red line that represented my center of balance looked like a Jackson Pollock tribute, but the Wii paramahansa said, with the exact same sincerity as the spammer, "Good job."

By the way, since no one, except the spammer, had an opinion about Edwin Drood, I've dropped it. I'm starting to load the phone with e-books for the trip we're taking in a couple of weeks and I'm open to recommendations.