Hi, Blogtown. How's your day going? Really? That's good to hear. This is how mine's been going:
I thought I'd blame this on the notion that Cameron Whitten, because he's on Day 12 of a hunger strike outside city hall, is clearly hallucinating and out of his mind and that we'd never even had this conversation today at Chapman Square where he was charging his laptop.
But, then, that'd be A LIE. I said about as much. And it's not really fair to malign a hunger striker, is it? (Unless it's to point out that you should never, ever say anything to a hunger striker that you don't want to see end up on Twitter.) So what next, I wondered. Should I ignore it? Can I make it go away? Not likely. It's out there. The world already knows.
So... yeah. Why not 'fess up? I guess that's the only sensible thing to do. I'll admit it. I have a teensy-weensy little crush on Victoria Taft.
(Oh great. My greatly tickled office-mates tell me I'm not even original.)
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