You May Remember Me From Such Episodes As Where The Hell Have You Been.

I've been a naughty, bad blogger. If I was a puppy, you'd have every right to rub my nose in it.
I'm still spastically in love with you, I've just been busier than a one-armed grandmother at a knitting bee.
Wait. That's not as rock n' roll an analogy as I'd actually like.
Busier than a one-armed ukulele player at a Tiptoe Through The Tu... forget it. Never mind. Busy, okay?
I have been slutting around a teensy bit, blogospherically, typo-fingerly and writey-writingly speaking, and some misguided fools have even been paying me to write stuff.*
But I promise I'll be back shortly, and I thank you both for being so patient.

In the meantime, I've decided I need a new excuse to drink and have opinions, because the other thirty or so excuses were getting a bit tired. Read about it here, and bring pretzels.

You're awesome and you smell amazing,
Jo.

*That was supposed to come across as humble. It felt weird, especially when what I meant to say was ABOUT TIME YOU REPAID MY CRANKY GENIUS WITH SOME COIN, BITCHES. Also, mama needs a new pair of shoes.