It’s James’s birthday today!
He’s 31. I’ve been around him for over a decade, which mostly means that I find myself saying things occasionally like “Weaseldome!” and then thinking “Christ, I’ve been around James too long…” But that’s more just reflexive habit, since I love James dearly and am terribly glad to have him around.
If he had a blog, I’d send you all there, but he doesn’t, alas, nor is he likely to get one, unless they develop a little bot that sits on your shoulder and records your ravings and then spits it out into a coherent entry. Until then, the world will have to be content with my occasional chronicles of insect-related heroism and the madness of weasels.