I'm Back. Children McNuggets.

Fabulous! As I wait and wait for my poor computer to download the metric assload of email accumulated in my inbox over my 10 day vacation, I figured that a quick post in the Plague was probably necessary, given the number of concerned calls I received on my cell from folks wondering whether or not a terrible accident had befallen me!
No, in fact, I did not get lost in a sausage factory like the Bundys' youngest child on Married With Children (pardon the television reference for those of you were not fortunate enough to have kept up that program in all its hillbillious glory during its 10-year run). I did, however, sneak off on vacation to Hawaii without actually notifying anyone of my whereabouts - though to my defense, I did send out many high-quality handmade postcards as a gesture of my affection. Some of you may have already received these cards. Some of you may have already been offended by these cards. Some of you may have already vomited at the very sight of these cards (though I am still awaiting the chance to hand-deliver the worst card I made, complete with the hand-painted liver spots). And some still, may have already carefully and lovingly put together explosive packages in retaliation for these postcards. These, of course, I am eagerly anticipating.
And while I am anxious to summarize the highlights of my trip, from the self-macing to "the South-Parkian incident with the diaper" to Homeland Security summed up neatly into two points according to the Kahului Airport security poster, I'm afraid that it must wait until tomorrow, as I've already managed to get myself roped into creating a passable set of men's garb for my brother, such that he might attend the Renaissance Faire tomorrow in appropriate fashion (it's really quite impossible to buckle your swash with any style when wearing a cornmeal yellow CAL sweatshirt). While I'd normally balk at the thought of burning the midnight oil the day after I get back from vacation, I'd promised to take him to the Faire and purchase him anything he wanted there as a birthday present. Of course, at the time, I'd based my gift on the observation that the last time we went to the Faire, he hadn't been interested in anything in particular. Today, though, he made some passing comment about how neat double daggers would be, so I think I may have gotten myself in a bit more trouble than I originally thought.
Wish my wallet some luck tomorrow, and I promise there'll definitely be more vacation highlights to come.

Further bulletins as events warrant.

P.S. Will the person who received the "Ashcroft Picking His Nose Whilst Playing the Bongos" postcard please notify me? I forgot who I sent it to, and I'd like to take a picture of it to preserve for future use if possible. Thanks!

P.P.S. Thank you Carsten, for jumping right in and ensuring that I stick to my diet after larding up over the course of vacation. Just as I was about to get up and retrieve a cookie, this man proceeded to tell me that there was a topless girl in his room. I proceeded to create an image in my mind, and to get lewd and Quagmire-style excited, until he clarified that the topless girl in his room was one of local felinoidal legend: homelier than a mule's behind, with all the charm and wit of a public restroom. Suffice to say, with my imagination severely scarred, I lost my appetite, and thus didst forgo the luscious cookie formerly of my heart's content. Thanks buddy. I won't be eating for weeks.