An Australian-made interactive online drama featuring a foxy DJ called Trixi will hit the Web on Monday.
As those of you familiar with my autoresponder know, I read all my email--or at least what my faithful assistant Trixie Pixel deems appropriate.
I'm laid up today folks, prone in bed with a compress around my neck while I dictate the column to my faithful secretary, Trixie Pixel.
We get all kinds around here--all kinds of rumors, that is. Some tend to get personal, and none more so than this anonymous note regarding my personal secretary: "Hey DuBaud--Why don't you wake up and smell the turnover? Rumor has it that Trixie Pixel was seen on the arm of a scout for a hot online lingerie emporium. Maybe it's time to give your secretarial staff an extra month's salary, before all your talent gets raided!"
I was about to pop open a tin of anchovies to go with my afternoon Laphroaig the other day when my faithful secretary and biochemical lab analyst Trixie Pixel showed up for work in an unusual state of disarray.
The intercom on my desk buzzed and the Long Island lilt of my assistant Trixie Pixel assaulted me.
It's a long way to Halloween, but I'm already in the spirit of my favorite holiday as I cast a keen eye on the daily costume changes of my gum-snapping, beehive-wearing assistante Trixie Pixel.
Skinny DuBaud's long-suffering secretary Trixie Pixel gives the stiff the heave-ho, from 60 feet off the ground.