There's this dude who covers for the competition one of the munis I've now been covering regularly for the past few weeks, and can I just tell you about the pants this guy wears? He has a pair of brown polys and a pair of what can only be described as blood-red polys that have been washed many times since the '70s, when he no doubt bought them. And these pants are so tight, you can see his underbundies in them -- and they're NOT boxers, and I doubt they're tighty whiteys. I'm guessing they're colored briefs, and that scares me. A lot. Because he's, like, in his late 40s, and no homie should be wearing colored briefs, but especially in his late 40s. (shudders)

So, how many of you have been wondering what's been going on with the immediate members of my bio-fam lately? Anyone? It's been ... not unpleasant. In fact, it's been downright cordial. Tenuous, certainly, but cordial. And are you ready for this? I even got a birthday e-mail from the woman formerly referred to as ****. (Continuing to call her that wouldn't be in the spirit of reconcilliation, I reckon so I guess I'm going to have to come up with a less-negative pseudonym.) It was belated, but I still got one, which is, like, HUGE. Seriously. And I can't say I'm not unpleased by this turn of events, but y'all knew that already, didn't you?

There's no doubt that some of you are downright puzzled dubious freaked the fuck outconcerned about this turn of events, and you're not the only one; more than once has it crossed my mind that there's an ulterior motive to this change of heart. But I'm tired now. However, you know what y'all didn't do for me for my birthday? You didn't put yourselves on the map. Go do it.