Rosy-fingered Dawn is getting ready to poke me. I didn't intend to be up this late tonight, but I took another of those unintended midnight naps. If television were less dull, and the mild, late summer night air less conducive to excessive relaxation, this wouldn't happen. Now I've got blue jays screeching outside my window, and that alluring twilight is attempting to seduce me into watching the morning undress the street and expose all its naughty bits (mailboxes, garage doors, bird baths, etc.) Also, I have to take the trash out. Approximately 34 hours remain before I get a giant needle jammed into my gums and a fake tooth part super-glued onto my deteriorating self. Maybe that's why I'm feeling a bit distracted.
Then there's this: It turns out that 6A has a Japanese subsidiary. It turns out that they are responsible for something called Toph. ick!