Howdy yall. Hope all is well. Or at least as good as can be expected. Or at least that your entire colon hasn’t been ripped out of your posterior by an underwater vacuum cleaner and plastered all over the wall for a variety of heathens to poke and prod and analyze and put up to the spectrometer and shit like that. And if it has, condolences. But, hey, you make your bed, eh? Yup. In any event, I’m still here, out on the island. Keeping up with the joneses, if only barely, actually, the joneses done moved up and out and have this fantastic ski cottage in sri lanka, which would be odd in and of itself if the joneses hadn’t made their 8th million in the field of high powered snow machines that can basically create the matterhorn anywhere anytime and for anybody who’s got enough cash and the wherewithal to supply it to the appropriate party. Anyway, you didn’t hear it from me, but I think it’s a bunch of hokum and that the whole fucking lot should be locked up. The last time anybody listened to me, though, deep throat was still hiding in a parking lot rather than having his kids dial up sally jesse Raphael for a photo-op. and by the way, what happened to sally? She looks like she ate a whole horse and then went back to chomp on the cow it rode in on. Sheeesh.