It almost killed me, but I got this week's Mamarazzi post up.

First the site was acting balky.

Then I got a cryptic email from the owner of the server, whose emails can best be described as Esperanto Haiku.

Then when I tried to log on, I had forgotten my password. Damn these computers with their cute, sleek interfaces and dangerously slick salesmanship. They remind me of the Snow White's stepmother.

Laptop in the guise of a harmless old peddler woman: Would you like us to remember your password?
Poppy: Why, dear sweet harmless-looking laptop? So that I forget it? Of course!

So I spent quite a long time trying and failing to log on to my Mamarazzi account.

Then I remembered the desktop computer upstairs. Perhaps its warm, vanilla-scented, freshly baked password-remembering cookies would still work!

So I tried it. And it worked.

But at that point, the little sprightly funny idea I had was cowering in the corner like a whipped spaniel, whimpering softly.

Well, I posted anyway. But I just don't know about the results.