What.

So, apparently, the GPS signal is offline. How can three satellites get thrown off course by space junk in one ... never mind. Forget it. The toys are on the shelf for an undetermined amount of time, so to speak, and Phase 3 is down to 85 percent. Which, naturally, pisses me off indescribably, but hey. These things take time, we hit snags, but it'll all be back up and running soon, so don't you fret your boggled little heads about it.

Rather, in the interim, go have fun with your friends and family. Consider this a gift from me to you: a small reprieve from the fear of being controlled by an evil genius. I know. Thoughtful, right?

While I work on reprogramming you, I've also been anticipating a lovely little expedition in espionage, the whereabouts and purpose of which I'm going to leave open for interpretation. After all, what kind of spy gives everything away? A bad one, that's what.

Catch you on the flipside (and no, I'm not telling you where that is, either),
Dr. Horrible