Tonight, on the way home from work on the bus, i was sitting across the aisle from a man who is either a walking billboard, or a refugee from the dot.com implosion.

He had on an internap.com hat, a singingfish.com jacket, an amazon.com t-shirt, and was carrying a real.com briefcase. i'm sure that inside the briefcase was more branded items, probably a drugstore.com pill minder and myriad random software company pens.

That, on top of seeing the mechanical singing Santa in the window at Rite-Aid.

Time to go make julesong's Parmesan Zucchini if I can convince Batty that I need to move and stop being a jungle gym for a kitten.