diss

So I read Wired magazine.  I'm not proud of it, but I read it pretty much cover to cover every month.  It comes to my apartment for a paltry $12 per year and the understanding that I will submit myself to a magazine chock full of adds and stories about ads.  I like shiny things and Wired fits perfectly in my plexi-glass bathroom magazine rack, its only stop between my mailbox and recycling.

its time to begin again.  writing about writing can help writing, right?  and its just to cruel to post such things on facebook.  plus, i'd rather spiel about dissertation writing for a few paragraphs instead of a few sentences.  the last year of this thing begins now: year six.  2010 is upon us very shortly and since i titled this 'disserter 2010' three years ago, i've got to stick to it.