View from the dark side of Karma

Michael was busting ass for San Francisco's Open Studios yesterday, and my mother-in-law took Sabra for an overnight festival of repetitive flower watering, kitty-cat watching, and probably meditating on celtic knots and scouting for crop circles.

So I had a rare day to myself and I settled in on the Karlanda to knit up the ubiquitous five-hour baby sweater for my friend JuJu's new baby, Nico. I thought I'd put the television to use, since we pay $88 a month for expanded cable so we can watch the French news for 30 minutes a day, then always forget to watch it. I was determined to find something in English that doesn't call itself "The Weather Channel" or "Noggin'." Potential answer: Discovery Health Channel, featuring the program "Born With Two Heads."

Snag: A satellite mishap resulting in no sound and a screen that looks like a tossed box of Triscuits, but damn if I'm going to change the channel when the subject line reads "Born With Two Heads." Speshly after I got up and moved all the crap off the cable box and pushed the remote's "up" button 109 times to get there.

Insult to injury: Still no picture as the subject line eventually changes to "Face-Eating Tumor" and later to "I Am My Own Twin." Damn, and damn!

Fine, I apologize to the mother of god and to the Lourdes chamber of commerce for Saturday's post. (beats chest twice) Mea culpa, dang. Just make it stop.