(another transparently ass-kissing note to God)
Almighty God who knoweth All, thank you thank you & thank you some more for hearing my super-timed and heartfelt wishes and for sending Dave Matthews Band back to Buffalo to make me happy. You fuckin' rock, God. And please, Omniscient Power of the Universe and Rock Stadiums, let me keep my head and when and if I'm near Him (oops, him) again help me to not raise my fingers in the sign language ILOVEYOU and scream DAVE I LOVE YOU, YOU ROCK - as I've done these last two times to the delight of my boy colleagues.
*
Two things, sadly, which I didn't get to utter today after much practice:
1. Ubb-jekk-shun, your honor.
2. May I approach the bench?,
as I had the wrong court date, had to post a BOND (?) and said then to the parking lot man Well, apparently I'm in the Twilight Zone...

Note to self:
I would have more confidence in our President if he were cutting lines in the Oval Office instead of choking on pretzels for crissakes.
And another, related thing.
Poor poor Prince Harry. A little teen experimentation gone from awry straight into tabs and a visit to a rehab centre.
As his wiser, better-looking older bro allegedly enjoys X like no other.