Looks like it. Not because I'm doing anything interesting (I made risotto last night, which is probably the high point of the week so far; fondue on Saturday, though), but because everybody else in the industry apparently is, leaving me with little to talk about. Plus, due to circumstances beyond my control, I've had to get up at the ungodly hour of 5:30 AM every morning this week. My body doesn't like this, apparently. It's not the lack of sleep--I've fared better with fewer hours. It's more like there's some gland or nerve cluster or something that just doesn't like being active at 5:30 in the morning. It's like I've got a heavy weight tethered to my forehead until about 9 AM. I don't know how you commuters manage.
Oh, hey, UFC 73 is this weekend. Look at the Wikipedia page for it--they could practically run a Brazil vs. US theme for this (especially if you want to claim Gurgel for the US, though I'm not sure how he'd feel about this kind of identity annexation). My picks: Silva (narrowly), Sherk (widely), Evans, Nog, Florian (upset possible here), Gurgel, Bonnar (assuming his dealer hasn't cut him off), Lytle, and Edgar (and that last bout had better make the air). On a related note, I hear that Rampage-Henderson at 75 won't be for the title--which is UTTER PRO WRESTLING BULLSHIT, to an extent which dwarfs whatever seems like the most utter bullshit in the comics industry right now. This is like finding out that Jack Kirby and Charles Schulz collaborated on a previously undiscovered Tintin series--of NOVELS. Actually, that's a rather flawed analogy, but I'm pretty sure I've lost all but a couple of you at this point.
Anyway, normal service resumes Monday, or the next time some scrap of news/blog entry inspires the customary verbosity.