Home again, home again, jiggidy thirsty.

Yeah, quite thirsty. Gimme a sec, let's me me get a cup of good old hydrogen dioxide.

...

Ah... I'm not sure exactly what that was, but it sure was delicious. Anyway, here I am, back in New Rochelle after my relaxing weekend away. And... I'm... feeling... pretty good. Seriously. I mean, let it not be said that I don't miss the Twins, because I do. I miss them with a burning, massive, and incomprehensible passion, which is to say, slightly less than I miss the Lady Poppelton's chili*. No, I'd love to spend more time there, but I like being here too, which is good, as I'll be spending more time here than, well, anywhere else, as far as the immediate future is concerned. So... yay for here. The people that might hate me with a burning passion actually don't, with the possible exception of the Player's president, but I don't really care how she feels at this point. Because she's something of a bitch, you see.

Hrm, maybe I'll just start my OWN drama club. With hookers, and blackjack. Or, at the very least, plays about blackjack playing hookers. Yes... brilliant...

*The secret to amazing chili, it seems, is to replace the beans with more meat. WHO KNEW?