Thursday, November 09, 2006

The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn

I've got some sort of awesome death disease that's torn out my throat linings and made my nose a snot faucet, so I'm going to spend the day shuffling in between bed and the couch. That means I'll likely write, but it'll be whiny! Or NyQuil-fueled. One of those.

In the meantime, Kynan W.K. reminded me that I haven't updated the Bucs-Raiders contest, partly because both teams suck so badly that it's grievously depressing. I've done it now, and two surprises:

1) the Buccaneers have broken 100 points? HOW?

2) I forget #2. Stupid NyQuil.

Anyway: the graph! More later.

1 comment:

Nanuk of the North said...

Shouldn't you be writing a great novel from your sick bed? Proust wrote tons from his bed.