Excuse

We were going to have a post for tomorrow - we had it written, proof-read, edited and even had a really cool graphic of a hairy ape doing the Hokey Pokey picked out - but we ended up not posting anything. We want to assure you that this reality was not our fault. We fully intended to post, but the circumstances of life preempted that result and you were deprived of content as a result.

Here's our excuse:

One of our writers - the one who was "blessed with the opportunity" to write the day's post - got up and went to his computer. There, faced with a blank word processing screen, he lost his inspiration. It wasn't his fault that he lost his inspiration, it just happened. He told us later that the chirp of the birds outside, the hum of the computer tower and the wind against the window blinds combined to form a cacophony of sensations, blocking out any humorous thoughts. We think writer's block had something to do with the abysmal state of his love life.

Our writer picked himself up out of his chair and, in a way that hit me as very feminine, marched outside to gain some "new ideas." Once outside, all heck broke loose. The ground opened up and swallowed part of the backyard, leaving a gaping hole in the middle of the lawn. Fire poured out of heaven, blasting the mailbox and creating a small regional disturbance. There was a natural disaster. A hurricane. An earthquake. A tornado. A giant thunderstorm with hail, sleet and so much rain that the ensuing flash flood filled up the gaping hole and drowned several domesticated animals. If only our writer had thought ahead to poor some concrete, he would now have a swimming pool.

In an attempt to mitigate the damage of the flood, our writer brought out a portable shop vacuum. Unfortunately the water had covered the electrical plug and when our writer tried to fire up the machine, a short circuit was created, cutting off power for the entire neighborhood. He wasn't trying to be malicious - in fact his goals were purely philanthropic - but he ended up doing some real damage. PG&E arrived quickly, but not before the entire street had lost power. One man, a neighbor who commuted to work in an electric car, was so irate at the delay that he smashed in our writer's front window.

That's when the fire and brimstone from the already broke loose heck started to rain down.

An investigative unit was sent over from the police department to look into the origin of the crisis in our writer's neighborhood. One of the patrol men was a K-9 officer and his dog leaped out of the back seat of the squad car and, before the vehicle had made a complete stop, chewed up our author's paper draft. He didn't really eat it, but he masticated it so totally that it was no longer of use to intelligent beings. It might have had some utility as fire starter, though.

Over the next few hours, we got a series of frantic phone calls from our writer informing us of his amazing morning and advising that he wouldn't be able to do the post.

Please don't judge us based on what we cannot help. We couldn't stop the K-9 dog or hold back the lightening. We were complete and total victims of a reality that we had no part in causing.

We are, of course, terribly sorry. In a way that doesn't admit culpability or open the door to liability, we apologize. We regret any heart feelings we might have caused and are sincerely sorry you feel the way you do. We swear by all the Greek gods that it will never happen again. Ever. Cross our hearts and hope to be derelicts for the rest of our lives. It was just this once - a momentary lapse that in no way reflects our genuine attitude or devotion to you, the readers.

Columbus! Somehow the above excuse doesn't ring true. But maybe our earnest faces and moist cheeks will compensate for the fantastic nature of our justification. You tell us, was it persuasive?