The people doing the Webbys seem to be overwhelmed. Whatever glamour or glitz there is to this whole thing is probably about as real as a cheap movie set held together with bodily fluids and chewing gum. They do have witty, charming Alan Cumming though... and Sam Donaldson, who Brad and I may have to be interviewed by... and those perennially perky, bubbly female commentators they use for these things with the British accents. And we're the party crashers... Urk. I don't know whether to feel scared, amused, honored, or insulted.
Reading through my email. Happy birthday to Pooka... so, what do you want for your birfday, kiddo?!
