My friend Gerard at American Digest has a handy diagram of his desk on his page today, which in a fit of inspiration he stole from someone else. I'm not sure if Gerard is a raconteur or not. I never met the fellow.
I always like to imagine my friends are all raconteurs. See, I'm an international man of mystery, so I'm sort of obligated to surround myself with raconteurs. There is always a danger in this world of trying to associate yourself with the proper sort of raconteur, but ending up, sadly, with mere wags.
Now, I realize that this is the Intertunnel, so for all I know Gerard is actually a four-hundred pound Korean woman who cleans herself with a rag on a stick, collects Potsy Webber bobble-head dolls, knits big loud afghans to donate to the American Friends Service Commitee, eats only Pringles, and drinks Jolt/Red Bull/Zarex/Rohypnol Smashes all day and night while posting 2200 word rants about her sewer rates in the comments at Perez Hilton. Anything's possible.
But I hope he really is a raconteur. I need to maintain a certain tone in my Intertunnel arrangements.
At any rate, I've prepared a sort of "How To" map of my affairs, just to help you people along that don't know how to handle yourself in the Go-Go world of big-time Internet Celebrities like me. And Gerard. I think.