This is a special message for that Lois Lane with the internet connection from hell, the task to write difficult articles for Middle Earth.
Lois, exiled on an Island sitting at a desk with the humming of broken neonlights at the local Daily Planet, surrounded by aliens from outer space.

You are reading this and thinking? Is she really talking to me?...

Yes, You, whose communication facilities with the outside world have been dismantled by the authorities,you that are stripped from any real live feed-connection from the main land by your superiors and banned to read your emails that might safe yourself from becoming one of them!
You have gone so deep undercover under the codename, Journaaaal de Funchaaal, that we start to worry.
That is why I go thru public channels to address myself to You:

JA I m talking to YOU!!!!
This is a personal blog-entry for you because I want to know an answer to the killing question: Clo, are you coming to Lisbon next week?

Roekoeh 3x in the night if you have received this message and will be able to escape from your personal Alcatraz for a few days. I m sure you can invent the Perfect Excuse. Because if somebody can do it... You can - As you are the Invent-an-unlikely-excuse-and-stick-to-it- Master.

To all you others... this entry was, even more then usual, I think of no specific interest to you -unless you are her boss of course-