There's always free cheddar in a mousetrap, baby . . .

Several years ago my assistant and I were talking during a slow afternoon at work. I have completely forgotten whatever it was we were discussing, and it's totally irrelevant anyway, but I remember saying at one point something like, "Well, that's why I'm a Pagan."

She kind of smiled and said, "You don't believe in enough to be a Pagan."

She was right, of course.

It's a thousand pages give or take a few . . .2番

This particular story starts about two thousand years after a small proportion of the world’s population believes a nice Jewish boy got himself nailed up on a rather shabby cross, and concerns, or at least occasionally mentions a certain Thomas D. Milton III. How and why he came by this rather awkward name has been chronicled elsewhere, and frankly I don’t feel like retyping thirty odd, and one or two downright strange, pages just to bring you up to date. Sure I could dig out the old manuscripts, and now that I use a computer I wouldn’t really have to retype them because I could just tell it to print, and there they’d be all ready for another shot at the big time; but there’s only so much rejection one man can go through. I mean why are you even dredging all this up again.