Admittedly, I am as susceptible to schadenfreude as anyone, but I take particular enjoyment in the demise of the worlds built by pompous liars. The only punishment suitable for Lord Black is the stripping of his title and the repayment of the money, as I don't think anything else means much to him.

It's nice to find Richard Perle's name in there, too.

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This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

July has historically been a month that escapes my memory. Perhaps it's the heat, or my alcohol intake at barbecues, but i can never seem to remember what happened in July, or even that the month has passed. I still start every page in my notebook with "J", before I realize that it is August. I think the real reason is that I tend to do very little in July, or as little as possible.

This July was an exception. I remember almost everything that happened, and there was much: taking a brief vacation to do nothing but having to find a new home in 3 weeks, thus spoiling my plans to do nothing for a week; frantically searching for short term accommodation that will accept pets; frantically searching for long term accommodation that we can afford; spending every night on mls.ca looking for homes and finding nothing but filthy slums for $400,000; securing a temporary home with 1 week before our move-out date (thank you Graeme); travelling to Atlantic City to discover first hand why it is called "Poor Man's Vegas"; finally grinding down the sellers of one property to accept our offer; night after night of packing our belongings; finding a mover that didn't laugh at me over the phone when i asked if they had availability on July 30; moving our belongings into storage; moving the rest of our belongings into our temporary Kits home (thank you David); winning the Mercedes at work (thank you Troy); celebrating our 4th anniversary (thank you Anya!).

Whew. Now I understand why people tell me that I need a vacation.