I can't believe it, but Charles Petzold, a guy who's a bit of a legend for many of us nerdy types (I learned about him when I randomly plucked the book Code off the shelf and fell in love with it), has actually chimed in on the issue.

And, unlike me, Charles is not in any way ambiguous: His Gaymometer clearly points to "Isn't" when applied to me. You can suck it, Millah.

I'm sicker than hell today - everybody I know has either strep (long story) or the flu - and I think I've got both. Or I might have anthrax again (another long story). Whatever it is, though, getting to hear from Petzold was better than any of the meds I've been taking for the migraine/pain/etc.

But check this out - this is what gets me all hot and bothered:

Compare, for example, the prose styles of David Sedaris and Rory Blyth. Both are guffaw-out-loud funny, but that's where the similarities end.

Bam.

That, my friends, would be the second time that one of my industry heroes has compared me to one of my literary heroes (Joel previously said a thing or two about me 'n this Sedaris guy).

I know it makes me sound like an egotistical ass, but that's just... well, fuck, you know? That's awesome. I feel like I'm dying, yet I'm the happiest little flower in the patch. Like Petzold parted the clouds and let a little ray of sunshine in to highlight the coat of the songbird perched on one of my petals, lulling me to a peaceful slumber with its melodic woodles and whistles (note: I should mention that, in addition to feeling like crap, I'm sort of delirious with fever as well - if you thought this paragraph was weird, you should have been with me in my dreams last night - in one of them, I was in a karaoke competition, and I won it, not by singing, but by drawing an outline of Robert Downy Jr.'s face on the wall using a dried up plant as my model (hey - I said "delirious," and I wasn't kidding)).

The only item from Petzold's post with which I take issue is this:

He may be hedonist, and perhaps even a borderline narcissist

Slander and lies.

I can assure you, sir, that I most certainly am not borderline!