but I’m going to throw it out instead.

I’m going on a roadtrip this weekend. I’ll have my phone, so you can text/call. I can’t tweet from my phone, though. I still need to find out why that’s not working.

Right now I’m discussing with a friend names for a boy monkey. I intend on attending the Union Square Barnes and Noble tonight to hear Jane Goodall speak, and I intend on bringing home a little primate. Here are a few of the names:

George
Oswald
Paddington
Harry
Rudyard
Turtle
Newt
Ferret
Les

With the exception of overused George, all fine names. We’ll see.

The post I was going to write yesterday was about Ritz Bits with cheese. I got pretty excited about it, then the idea fled just as quickly as it came. Rather rude, I say. Ruminant refugee. Ridiculous. Ritz Bits. With cheese.

When I get back on Labor Day, my life’s path will follow a descending spiral, a helix into an emotional jumbly-world, before shooting up like a geyser, a wellspring or fountain. I’ll do my best to handle it the best I can, but I just wanted to give you fair warning. The monkey may have to speak for me.