I have the turkey. Do what I say, or he dies.

My Thanksgiving tradition (if one year equals a tradition)* is to post this picture of Tom. This year, I am adding an element - a prize.

You will need to print it, color it (using the explicit color guide on the picture) and send it in. If you've adequately stayed inside the lines, used standard OSHA quality guidelines for your crayons and taken plenty of artistic liberties (such as adding a penis or moustache) you could be the winner.

Winner will be determined by a monkey with a dart. Winner will receive some bacon and a shoe.


You may choose to scan and email your entry, or simply drop it in the mail. If you don't already know my address, you are not eligible to win, anyway. If you do know it, perhaps you are the sonofabitch who egged my garage door. (prick)

Happy Thanksgiving to all, I hope your day is blessed! Eat. Drink. Puke. Repeat.



*Technically, this is the second time this picture has appeared. Since Violet is making a federal issue about the meaning of "one year" and "tradition," I felt I needed to explain further. You go ahead and fret about it Violet... the rest of us are busy drinking by now! ;)

The Twain says chooo choooo!

A couple of great quotes from a pretty smart man... Shania's Dad, Mark Twain:

"If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous,

he will not bite you. This is the principle difference between

a dog and a man."

And...

"A lie can travel halfways around the world,

while the truth is still putting on its shoes."

I wish I had more time to write this week, but holidays are always crazy in the voice over business! I will be back before Thanksgiving, so don't go too far.

Don't we ALL need a Hummer now and then?

I suppose I need to join a new club.

I've always wanted a Hummer. So the other day, I bought one.

I'm not sure what attracted me, maybe it was the sleek, flowing curvaceous lines. (um, no.) Perhaps it's the blazing speed. (no again) Maybe it's just the fact that it will piss a few people off. (hehe!)

I guess I just want to know that, regardless of the weather, the circumstances, etc., I can always hit the road. I can help a few people out of the ditch. I'm up high enough to see everything that's coming my way. Kick it into low, and there are 600+ horses that can pull you through pretty much anything that gets thrown at you.

Nothing can penetrate the armour... you can't even see in, the windows are completely tinted.

I think we choose our vehicles for reasons that aren't always obvious... but if you analyze deeply enough, maybe it makes sense.

And now, for those of you who've waited for one last look at my taillights on the way out... this one's for you.

Here's That Rainy Day

A song can really set a mood.

A few minutes ago, listening to my iTunes while working, one of my favorite songs cycled through:

Here's that rainy day

They told me about,

And I laughed at the thought

That it might turn out this way...

Funny how love becomes

A cold, rainy day.

Funny,

That rainy day is here.

A look out the window confirmed - it was a cold, rainy day. Strange how music can skew your entire outlook.

So I clicked fast-forward, and the next song on shuffle was "And It Stoned Me," by Van Morrison:

Half a mile from the county fair,

And the rain came pouring down...

Oh, the water...

Hope it don't rain all day.

Fast-forward again, looking for something a little more positive. Next song:

Long as I remember

Rain been comin' down.

Clouds of mystery pourin'

Confusion on the ground.

Good men through the ages

Tryin' to find the sun.

And I wonder, still I wonder,

Who'll stop the rain.

Swear on your mom, all these songs came up on random shuffle, in a row.

I guess some days you just have to accept that rain's gonna fall.

The view out my window today.

(I know you're wondering. The next song that came up as I was writing this, was "The Last Train," by Janis Ian... which isn't ABOUT rain, but 'rain' is part of 'train'. Then, sure enough, "The Rain, The Park and Other Things" by the Cowsills. WTF?)

UPDATE:

Now it's 7 pm, still steadily raining in St. Louis, and I have a fire in my fireplace. Hot tea, candles lit and some Nancy Wilson on the iPod. Soon I will put some bacon-wrapped scallops on the grill. (yes, I'm a REAL griller, not just a fair weather griller)

I snapped a picture of the candles. Looks nice, huh?

Duct Sauce

My mother sent an email this morning with unthinkable news - she used duct tape... on a duct. I've personally never heard of such a thing, but I guess it's possible. I've used it on ducks before, and on pretty much everything else.

But never, EVER on ducts.

---

We can all breathe a sigh of relief - Wal Mart's profits rose 11 percent this quarter.

Whew! I was worried for a while that people would stop patronizing Wal Mart, and begin buying from stores that sold QUALITY stuff. Thank GOD we still want cheap plastic shit, and haven't recognized that paying a little more for good stuff ends up being a more efficient purchase... and is far more satisfying.

---

I saw "A Good Year" and "Stranger Than Fiction" last weekend. Violet and I attended a double feature, with a little mall shopping in between.

I've learned that either I'm just not very picky about movies - or reviewers are way TOO picky.

First, I was worried after reading the reviews of A Good Year, that it sounded like a tired retread of Under the Tuscan Sun. After seeing the movie, I realized that reviewers are pretty out-of-touch. Great flick, even though I don't like Russell Crowe.*

Stranger Than Fiction was a good movie, although just a little slow in places. The reviews were all really positive, so I guess I expected even more. Again, I need to stop reading reviews. All in all, it was a really good flick too. I highly recommend both.

And you should see them with someone at least half as charming, beguiling and sweet as Violet. That made it extra great.

---

I started the process of decorating and painting my downstairs bathroom this week.

I HATE painting... have I ever mentioned that on this blog? I am terrible at it, but one bathroom is hardly worth hiring a painter.

So the room is empty, taped off and ready. Which means I'll probably get around to painting it in about... oh, April.





*He's a jagoff. I met him once in Nashville and he was an arrogant prick. I almost threw a phone in his face.

What was that blur?

I am busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest. Today's schedule:

• Early rise, early recording session.
• Trip to the coffee house for life sustaining fluid.
• Go to the bank, make deposit.
• Take the dog to the vet.
• Meet a client at noon.
• Do three major recording sessions starting at 1:30.
• Pay bills.
• Clean up the mess from last night's House, M. D. party. (it appears things got a little out of hand)
• Pick up dog from vet.

Sometime after that:

• Bubble bath.

Yeah, I know how that sounds... but I never said I'd be alone.

100,000 Hits

Soon I will reach the two year mark of this blog. (Nov. 27) With three weeks left in year-two, I just reached 100,000 hits. Yee-freakin'-hawwww!!

I love and appreciate my readers. And also Smarties and Laffy Taffy. And puppies.

Oh, and lobster. But mostly, my readers.

---

Actual exerpt from a conversation:

Person 1 - "You're comparing me to a Cheeto?"

Person 2 - "No [silly]... I'm comparing LOVE to a Cheeto."

---

Question: Which is more romantic?

A - Cheetos and wine coolers.

B - Wine, cheese/crackers.

C - Skip it all and go right to the oral sex.

---

Have a great Monday!

Stardust, Salad and Steve Mays

The Stardust is no more.

Over 48 years ago, it was the world's largest hotel. Soon it will be a pile of dust and debris, with Wayne Newton's hairpiece probably buried somewhere in the middle.

It is sort of romantic to think it was once run by the mob... of course, what Vegas casino wasn't.

Still. Imagine the quiet inside right now. For the first time in 48 years, the place is closed. The hallways are empty. The roulette wheels that haven't stopped once... stand still.

Goodbye old friend.

---


The salad at dinner tonight was made with fresh lettuce, greens, carrots and croutons.

And it was only AFTER finishing it, that I noticed the expiration date on the dressing I was using:

And yet, I was more likely to lose my life by eating the fresh lettuce, than by eating the year-and-a-half expired salad dressing.

Would that be ironic, or simply implausible? Not real sure. But I'm sure tired of having poop in my salad greens.

---

Steve Mays makes a great point about worry in this article.

I find myself anticipating things to worry about. I'm actually worried about things I might worry about IN THE FUTURE. I never used to be that way... which worries me.

"I HATE that Bob Barker..." - Happy Gilmore

So Bob Barker is about to retire. Spay and neuter rates will drop instantly, Johnny Olson's (died in 1985, God rest his soul) contribution to pop culture, "Come On Down!", will pretty much be a thing of the past.

Trivia: Johnny Olson was the first Price is Right announcer until his death in 1985. Then Rod Roddy died in 2003 while he was the show's announcer. There must have been radiation or some sort of poison in the announcer booth at that goddamn show. (Note to self - have my recording booth sanitized, and get a geiger counter.)

Bob Barker is 82, so it's only right that he takes some time to relax and enjoy life. He's been hugged by more women (and has grabbed more handfuls of breasts) than anyone in the history of television.

I won't miss that long pointy microphone he uses, but I WILL miss him. I met him once, he's a really nice guy.

It's okay if the show continues, but I won't be watching.*

---

Quote overheard at the table next to me (just now) at the cofffee house:

"I think that is SOOOO hot!"

It's a table of 30-something women in their suburban mommy-wear, sipping coffee.

As a guy, by default and by no choice of my own, I'm interested in hearing what they think is so hot. They begin whispering amongst themselves at a level I can't quite hear. I strain, but... nothing.

Finally one turns to the barista. "Bob, how hot do you make this coffee?"

Boy, that was disappointing.

---

I am experiencing PWSD. Post-World Series depression. My team won it all, which was totally sweet. But now, what? No more baseball. Only the hot-stove league.

Ho hum.

---

An exerpt of a conversation last night with Violet:

V: "Tomatoes have a lot of antioxidants. So does chocolate."

D: "You know, I never liked my Auntie Oxidant. Uncle Oxidant, well, he was okay."

V: "That was pretty stupid."

D: "Yeah, this whole conversation was an oxidant waiting to happen."

So I looked up "uncle oxidant" on Google. I'm only the second person in the world who has used that phrase. (at least on the internet) "Oxidant waiting to happen" has appeared only FOUR times.

So either I am a genius for being inventive, or an idiot.

I prefer to think I'm an idiot... it draws less attention.

---

I am back to blogging. I took some time off to organize my life and get some things accomplished.

Well I suppose I'm a little better organized, but I'm not sure how much I've accomplished. I DID realize that I was happier and felt more productive when I was writing regularly.

So I'm back. Welcome to my life. Sorry about the mess.**



* I always thought those people who bid $1 should be stricken with massive, crippling gas.

** A great song hook by the Well Hungarians. Pretty much sums up my situation.

I have a few things to say...

I've taken what I can only call a 'vacation' from blogging.

Real vacation: The first few days you spend relaxing... LOVING the freedom, and enjoying the absence of schedule and pressure. You wonder why you ever worked in the first place. This shit is sweet!

Then, toward the end, you begin looking forward to going home... you start thinking of what you miss about your neighborhood, your friends and your routine.

Then, it's over. At long last, you are home... and you remember why you love where you live and what you do, you anticipate getting back to work, to your routine... to life.

The past ten days have... been nothing like that at all. But it sure sounded good.

___

The St. Louis Cardinals have surprised, amazed and dumfounded the experts. As for the fans... I'd love to say we expected it all along, but we're pretty freaking amazed and dumfounded too.

Situation: A few guys that had been thrown onto the scrap heap... several first-year rookies... a couple of geriatric near-retirees... and numerous injured and hurting players... have stunned the world. In a fit of determination and grit, an unlikely group of heroes have dragged the team into the FALL CLASSIC, and nobody has an explanation as to how ANY of it happened.

It just did.

And now, the Cardinals will take their scrappy group of talented but injured, green, left-for-dead guys to the field once again for seven games that promise to be as exciting as Game 7 was against the Mets.

And it will be against another unlikely team. With 119 losses last season, the Detroit Tigers have surprised almost as many experts. I can think of no more deserving team than the Tigers to go to the world series...

... and lose.

But this is what baseball is really about. No 25-million-a-year Yankees, no Bonds-esque assholes, nothing even close to what the experts predicted.

But it's real. It's American. It's baseball. And it's sweeeeet.

___

After this week, I will have jumped several hurdles in life and settled back into some sort of routine... almost like coming back from vacation. And, just like vacation, I am tired and broke, but I have all kinds of pictures to show ya!

Just kiddin'.

Mini Sabbatical

I have a stress-filled week. Deadlines, work, family, medical issues, personal issues... all on my mind right now. These issues have temporarily removed the fun, and I am left with what remains.

I have no time to blog at the moment, so I will leave this simple message to let you know I am here and okay. When I am in the right mindset again, I will be back. It shouldn't be long, I have a big mouth and lots of things to say.

Just not right now.

Blah blah blah says Dave

Rep. Mark Foley is in trouble. After being caught flirting with underage congressional pages, he has announced that he was molested by clergy as a child. Also, it now appears he needs rehab, instead of your vote.

Frankly, I'm pretty sick of the "elect me" mentality one day, and the "forgive me" mentality the next. The only difference between last week and this week is, he got caught.

Getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar (or a page's pants) seems to be the motivation for much apology (and rehab) these days. If you were really sorry, wouldn't you have stopped the activity a long time ago? If you really thought you had problems, wouldn't you have ALREADY checked yourself into rehab?

It's all bullshit.

And the funniest thing I've heard today is from another of the indignant, hypocritical bastards (er... I mean 'pubic servants') on capitol hill, who suggest that they should stop utilizing teen-aged congressional pages because of the possibility they might be abused.

You're kidding, right? Can't you guys just... you know, stop abusing them? Are you so unsure of yourself that you have to remove the 'temptation?'

"Family values." Sheesh. Clearly, it's time to de-politicize sexuality, morals and family values.

---

Overnight, gas prices went from 1.94 per gallon to 2.17. One night, 23 cents... and yet the price of a barrel of oil is at its lowest level in 7 months.

For a couple of reasons, I have personally boycotted Exxon/Mobil.

First, frankly, is because of its size.

Second, it paid CEO Lee Raymond 400 MILLION in retirement. Last year, Exxon made the biggest profit of any company ever, $36 billion. They made that profit on the backs of Americans, primarily... many of whom could barely afford to drive to work.

I simply cannot support that. The free market system is great - especially when it allows me as a consumer to make decisions such as this one.

---

Hey North Korea. Sit down and shut up.*



---

Yankees beat Detroit in game one of the playoffs - anybody shocked? Their lineup is the best 200 million per year can buy, so if the Yankees DON'T win, they should be ashamed.

Damn Yankees. Hey MLB, get a real salary cap.

---

That's all I got right now. I feel better though, thanks for reading.



*although there would be nothing we could do about it, since our military is currently busy. A little over two million in active duty and reserves, many based in Korea, Japan, Germany and other parts of the world. Here's an idea - double the size of our military... and do it today. We need the power to back up what our cowboy president is doing.

You Ol' Indian Summer

Native American Summer, to be PC.

Today in St. Louis, we will reach a high (if the weather guys are correct) of near 95. Our record high here is 92.

Last week, it was cold here... like 15 degrees below normal. This week, the A/C is back on, the bugs are busy again... the trees don't know what the hell to do, drop leaves or bud new ones. Rainfall has been down this year, so again the colors won't be as vibrant as usual.

The seasons feel different now. When I was a kid, this area got TONS of snow. Twelve inch snowfalls were fairly routine... we'd get two or three a year. For the past several years, we've gotten no snowfalls over five or six inches. In fact, last year, I received a TOTAL of about six inches at my house all winter.

Even now, when pretty much everyone agrees the global climate is changing, it's weird to actually SEE it. Although a few local temperature fluctuations aren't 'proof' of change, the melting of the ice caps and rising of overall average temps across the past few decades are.

Is the weather changing where you are? Now that we have hard evidence, do you believe global climate change is occurring, or do you still think it's bunk?

Lucky there's a family guy...

If you love Family Guy like I love Family Guy - (and voice over stuff) you will get into this "behind the scenes" thing showing the characters doing their voice overs.

Seth Macfarlane is a freakin' genius.

AAADD

Sent to me by Ron, this sounds JUST like a day in my life:

Recently, I was diagnosed with : A.A.A.D.D. - Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder.

This is how it manifests:

I decide to water my garden. As I turn on the hose in the driveway, I look over at my car and decide it needs washing.

As I start toward the garage, I notice mail on the porch table that I brought up from the mail box earlier. I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car.

I lay my car keys on the table, put the junk mail in the garbage can under the table, and notice that the can is full. So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the garbage first.

But then I think, since I'm going to be near the mailbox when I take out the garbage anyway, I may as well pay the bills first.

I take my checkbook off the table, and see that there is only 1 check left. My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go inside the house to my desk where I find the can of Coke I'd been drinking. I'm going to look for my checks, but first I need to push the Coke aside so that I don't accidentally knock it over.

The Coke is getting warm, and I decide to put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.

As I head toward the kitchen with the Coke, a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye --they need water. I put the Coke on the counter and discover my reading glasses that I've been searching for all morning. I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I'm going to water the flowers. I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and suddenly spot the TV remote. Someone left it on the kitchen table. I realize that tonight when we go to watch TV, I'll be looking for the remote, but I won't remember that it's on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I'll water the flowers.

I pour some water in the flowers, but quite a bit of it spills on the floor.

So, I set the remote back on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill. Then, I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.

At the end of the day:

- the car isn't washed
- the bills aren't paid
- there is a warm can of Coke sitting on the counter
- the flowers don't have enough water,
- there is still only 1 check in my check book,
- I can't find the remote,
- I can't find my glasses,
- and I don't remember what I did with the car keys.

Then, when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I'm really baffled because I know I was busy all day, and I'm really tired. I realize this is a serious problem, and I'll try to get some help for it, but first I'll write in my blog.

Have a nice weekend!

Sanguine Ridicule

I wonder if hypochondria is something you can develop in your 40's.

My life has been stressful lately, and stress causes heart attacks, cancer, and has been responsible for countless strokes.

I haven't been exactly sick lately, I just feel 'different.' Little symptoms (probably imagined) that make me feel like something's not quite right.

I'm going to the doctor Monday just in case. I'll probably get some blood work and a cancer test, maybe a throat swab or a finger up the butt. Gee, I hope he doesn't get confused.

I realize I'm probably overreacting, but that's what hypochondriacs do... so I wonder if THAT'S my new disease.

---

I had the most amazing night.

I attended my subdivision meeting.

Such an incredible experience... the excitement, the divisiveness, the shouting. We read the minutes OUT LOUD, fer chrissake.

You can't buy that kind of excitement.

It was decided that we'd stop allowing residents to lease out their properties, we'd negotiate for better lawn care and come up with a way to hide the electricity junction boxes. By that time, the room was coursing with adrenaline. Afterward, I kicked back with a cigarette.

I was the youngest person in the room. I was probably the only person who had a better place to be.

My life sucks.

'Scuse me?

This morning on my regular drive to the coffee house for my caffeine fix, (venti cafe latte, skim milk) I was behind this vehicle.


Unsolicited advice: Don't name your business anything that suggests that you are into bestiality. People are pretty dead set against you screwing their shih tzu.

Also seen yesterday, a business called "Greater Midwest Auto Plaza." See, I don't think you should call yourself an auto "plaza" if you have 7 cars parked on a grass lot with a mobile home as your office.

Living in O'Fallon Missouri, this blog practically writes itself.

---

On a recent evening, in a state of mild insobriety, Violet and I were discussing humorous euphemisms for poop.

In the 80's, my friend Tom Upton and I worked together at the Lake of the Ozarks and were pretty much joined at the hip. One of our favorite things to do was get drunk and invent euphemisms. I am unable to remember many, but one that always stuck with me was "coiled perfume snake."

The gin and tonic had taken its toll that evening with Violet, so I Googled it to see if it was indeed an original.

Coiled perfume snake

Yep. It appears several times, but all by me except once by my friend Ken Dillon, who got it from me.

The downside, it hasn't taken hold like I hoped.
---
Happiest of birthdays to my Mom! I love you so much. Happy 49th! (again)

Prepare to feel guilty

The emotion contained in this poster is the stuff man-tears are made of. I think it's what Mom was REALLY trying to tell me all this time.

Inventions by Dave

Things I'd like to see patented and marketed:

• House paint which contains termite poison. Why hasn't this been done already? Isn't it ultra-obvious?
• Deodorant soap bars with a little bottle of actual deodorant in the middle. Use the Lever 2000, then uncap the end and roll on the stink-resistant. Morning prep time will be cut in half.
• Car seat vents. Install a seat bottom with little holes, connected to an exhaust fan vented to the outdoors. Fart all you want with the windows up... who cares! I will buy the first one for my friend Dr. Mike, (heart of gold, colon of sulphur) who could make a hyena puke. The second one will go to Bill.
• Underwear laced with jock-itch medication. Self explanatory. (and why does the same medication treat jock itch AND athlete's foot? Is that totally weird, or is it just me?)
• Wine laced with aspirin.
• Hustler magazines with handy-wipes between the pages. Duh.
• An airplane made of either rubber, or the same shit the black box is made of. Suddenly, no more fatalities during a crash.
• Speaking of airplanes, the restrooms should come equipped with a "changing table"... and I don't mean to really change diapers on. We all know what people are doing in there, so we might as well make it convenient.
• Red Bull with vodka or other mixers already in it. Isn't that the REAL reason we buy it anyway? Who has consumed a Red Bull straight up? I rest my case.
• Roads that are rubber, and tires that are concrete. I don't know why. I guess I'm just running out of ideas.
• Fingernail clippers that catch the nails before they shoot across the room. Another one whose lack of existence shocks me.
  

I will continue examining new ways to improve the world, and report back to you.

Things on this blog have been way too heavy lately...

... So I am going to prepare you for the weekend with a delightful amalgamation of questionably entertaining postulation designed to make you cogitate.

---

The lease on my car is almost up, so I set out recently to test drive two cars: the Pontiac Solstice and the Saturn Sky. It is the year of the cheap roadster, and both of these cars come in under 30-grand.

First, I stopped at the Pontiac dealership. After looking at a Solstice for a few minutes, a salesman walked up and asked if he could help. I told him I wanted to test drive one.

They don't allow test drives.

To repeat - They. Don't. ALLOW. Test. Drives.

With a "you're fuckin' KIDDING me" look on my face, I listened... as he told me it's because people don't want to buy a car with miles on it. No shit, Sherlock, but that's one of the real bummers of SELLING CARS.

I asked him how they expect me to buy one without a test drive, and he said I can test drive it after I've signed the papers and given them a deposit.

Obviously, I walked away at that point... mostly because I didn't want to risk the possibility that I would whack him on the back of the head with my elbow for being stupid.

I headed to the Saturn dealership for a look at the Sky. They had none in stock, they only get TWO in per month, and they have FIFTY people on a waiting list who have paid a 500 dollar deposit.

I suppose I will be sticking with a BMW, in the form of a Z4... although I really, really like the Sky... and I was kinda in the mood to save about 30 grand.

---

Bummer stickers (misspelling intentional) piss me off.

First: People! They make your car look like shit!

QUICK NON SEQUITUR: Barry Manilow, Looks Like We Made It, just came on my ipod. You're damned right it did... and I'm just man enough to admit I turned it up a little bit.

Second, stop being pious and spreading your "morality" via a plastic adhesive strip on the back of your 1975 Vega... instead, why not try leading your own life. (and leading by example) Who are you to tell me things like "You can't be catholic AND pro-abortion"? Maybe I should put one on my car that says "You can't read this bumper sticker AND have a large penis."

And those Jesus vs. Darwin fish stickers have more versions than Dennis Rodman's panty drawer. I suppose you expect to change my mind about evolution because I'm stuck behind your sorry ass on the outbound 70? More likely, I want to get out and hit you with a stick for riding your goddamn brakes.

Or, "Hungry? Eat your import." (irony, this American car was a piece of shit)

I HAVE laughed at a few:

"Got Pie?"
"Politeness is the most acceptable hypocrisy."
"Hype always prevails."
"Men have feelings too. Just kidding."

And, for whatever reason, I dislike the "honor student" bumper stickers... although, the one that says "My C average student can kick your honor-roll student's ass" makes me chuckle.

---

I intend to start an email forwarding campaign:

I sent you this email because you are a fellow victim. Your email address showed up on a list of recipients from a forward I received today.

Please forward this to anyone you wish would stop sending you forwards. Send it to everyone you know, and have them forward it to their friends. Once the message is clear that forwards waste bandwidth, time and resources, maybe we will all stop receiving forwards.

Help me in my quest to STOP THE MADNESS. Forward this anti-forward message to everyone on your mailing list!

The irony is, they probably wouldn't "get it." The campaign would probably be successful... and by "successful," of course I mean "unsuccessful." Catch 22.

Forwards are the scourge of the internet... especially the ones that talk about how Bill Gates is going to mail you a check for $35,000 just because you are stupid enough to click "forward."

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to respond to an email from a nice man from Nigeria, and then go mansion-shopping.

---

Interesting addendum: Yesterday's post about the anniversary of my failed marriage was the 666th post of my blog. Unintentional, which makes it all the more freaky.