Aren’t you happy? Me too. I have random thoughts this day.
- I have chained myself to the sofa this whole weekend so I can get some Birdie stuff done before my cohort pulls out her (and my) hair. Looking forward to the show, but not to a lot of the insanity that precedes it.
- Mac people: Three things I miss from the PC side are the “Home” key, the “End” key, and the Delete key that allows you to delete characters from the left. I use those three functions all the time; is there a workaround, or something really obvious I’m missing? I yearn to learn, but I’m too lazy to research it right at the moment.
- Kristen, one of our regular Finkville fiends, started her own blog. Check it out here and leave her some love. (Samuel…no post since May? Sheesh.)
- I’m worried about BoomR’s company’s reorganization plan.
- The Thriller was accepted into the Masters in Clinical Counseling program at the seminary — yay! He starts classes in October. Now he can practice his psychoanalysis skills on me.
- Mavis is an awesome sis. I had some doctorin’ to do yesterday (all day, actually) and she was there with/for me every minute.
- Friday is our usual Jake sleepover. We can’t have it tonight and I am sad.
- What are your plans for the weekend? Something fun?
All right. Back to the Birdie DVD. Stoney reads RtB and she will know that I am goofing off instead of working. And I’m a-skeered of Stoney. Can I get an Amen, students??
Fink out.

Great success!
My blog stats regularly show between 70 and 150 unique visitors a day (I know — not much on a worldwide scale, but you could say quantity isn’t everything), and very few of them come from search engines, with the exception of about a dozen or so who arrive at the site looking for images (which is why I give most of my images non-descriptive names). In other words, most of my hits arrive with “no referring link” — that is, they access the site from a bookmark or by typing finkweb.org into the location bar.





J’ever wonder why certain things bother some people, but not others? Is it that we’re all just charming little flavors of OCD, simply varying in subject and severity?