Finally! Something Mom can put about me in the Christmas Letter

It's getting to be that time of year when Mom decides to gin up nooz and outright burnishings for the dreaded Christmas letter. Needless to say, she's been telling her golf & bridge friends that in my spare time I'm a maitre 'd at a lesbian coffeehaus. But, as Yoda would say, "Hide my blogging son no more will I."

Why? Well, we're #5 on Google for "Make dangerous stuff"

You know, your one stop shop for, like, apathetic revolutionaries.

(Note to Robbo, the LMC, and our various and sundry guest posters: somehow we've got to find a way to overcome in the rankings those charlatans and reich-wing rethuglikkkans at "unwise microwave oven experiments." The very fate of the Deaniac Revolution and with it Gaia herself hangs in the balance!)