Mr. Subtle.

I'm reading this book by Rick Riordan. He writes fictional mysteries set in San Antonio. The main character is a P.I. who knows Tae Kwan Do, has a sword over the bathroom toilet and a cat that eats chips and tuna and enchiladas. One of the characters is a bad-ass dude who has a .357 magnum named "Mr. Subtle". This cracks me up.

Well, I've been absent a while because I've been busy and the homework structure of this class is different than most which causes me less free time. Our Big Project (that's it's name) at work is coming to fruition so everything is going haywire and they need me for extended periods of time. In fact today I had three simultaneous meetings. And I was recently accused of not being able to multi-task, if you can believe that.

Some, an executive summary until next meeting:
-- I love my new car. Saturns rock.
-- I am going to get another A in my networking class unless I really screw up next week.
-- Food involving tongues and intestines of animals are disgusting
-- I am a sandwich