The Delfino family (of which I am a fine and upstanding member) maintains one occasionally updated blog and one rollicking, hilarious, and often times deeply disturbing message board in which every thread somehow leads to a detailed explanation of how, exactly, someone last ended up eating chicharron bulaklak at Ongpin.
Only 4 out of our 76 registered users ever write for the blog, so it was with much satisfaction that I informed my cousin Luj—mighty webmaster and inventor of our now famed Duende of the Month contest—that I had fresh! hot! excellent! content ready to go. My entry has everything: young love, unabashed romance, closely guarded family secrets, excerpts from personal letters. It's crazy good stuff.
But...it's been burning a hole in my iBook for weeks now as Luj struggles to find a new blog host who will kindly allow us to keep our domain name (or something like that. i'm no geek, after all...). Even though Luj begged me not to post it here, I really should. Especially since he refers to me—without a trace of irony, I might add—as Ate Smarty Pants.
He's lucky that blood is thicker than blog.
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