Foxy’s computer currently thinks she speaks German. The ads in Myspace know this, somehow, so it adds an international flavor to the social networking trailer park. Not as sexy as thinking she speaks Italian, but interesting nonetheless. I’m a geek from way back when we got the internets in 1996 and I ran up a $500 phone bill because there wasn’t a local AOL number, but I’ve never run into this particular problem before. She has no idea how it happened, and it amuses me, so I haven’t researched the fix yet.

No workday tomorrow, since I have oceans and pools and rivers of teeth to swim through still. One day things will go back to normal. One day we will have enough office space to hire the number of people it would take to adequately process a gazillion teeth per day. One day. . .