It has come to my attention that I've been, ahem, slacking in the original content department. So while I'm thinking about things with which to regale y'all, lemme tell you about my friend Sammy, who's done lost her mind again.

See, Sammy is a perfectly lovely lady; she led my first expedition to the great mecca, in fact. We've been to Vegas together, spent many nights drunk and lamenting the state of the new biz, talked about stupid boys -- you know, everything that good girlfriends do.

But a couple years ago, Sammy made a pact with a devil, that devil being her friend Andy, who talked her into running the Chicago Marathon. From January to race time, Sammy trained, eschewing the levels of beer and crap-food consumption we'd all come to enjoy in those days while she was here. And oh! The running! There were talks of running 2, 8, 12 miles at a stretch! I thought she was nuts and told her so each time we hung out. I mean, there was no question that she WOULD complete the marathon -- which she did, and in the time she was supposed to -- but WHY? When there's beer to drink and pizzas with extra meat to consume!?!

Well, long story short, despite any protest by me, Sammy's running the damn marathon again -- only this time, it's personal.

See, her extended family has been beaten by the cancer stick, so she's decided to raise funds for research. Now, I personally think there has to be an easier way to do this -- bake sale? candy bars? -- but she clearly doesn't share my view. So, since she's so adamant about running this damn thing, I'm putting a button over there on my side bar so you can slip her a few bills if you got 'em.

I mean, at the very least, perhaps we can raise enough money to convince her to stop making the rest of us look like chubby slobs.