Hello. Hi. Can you put the gamepad down for a second? Great. Thanks.

I'm going to be looking after you for a few days, while Daddy Spoonbender is busy with some other things. He seems to think I'll do alright, even though I don't have any blogs of my own. At least -- ha ha -- none I know about. Ha ha. Ahem.

We should have a pretty good time. I'm not going to be a Barney, or a Betty, or whatever the kids call losers these days. Just a few rules, and we'll be more than jake. [That's a band, right? Oh. Well, we're going to be more than Jake.]

Watch whatever. If Daddy Spoonbender didn't pony up for a V-chip
or learn the DVD "Lock" feature, he'll get the offspring he deserves.

[Speaking of, do you suppose any hilarity ensued when documentarian Ric Burns' World Trade Center elegy Center of the World aired on PBS at the same time that Wayne Wang's lolly-where-the-sun-don't-shine DV pant-a-thon Center of the World is in rotation on HBO? Like overtired teachers not reading the listings closely enough, setting their VCRs to tape, and playing the tape in class, to the shrieks and delight of...
No, I guess I didn't really think so, either.]

Sleep whenever. For gods' sakes, you down enough
Red Bull to put sleep out of business.

If my cell phone rings while I'm in the bathroom, and
the Caller ID says "Equifax," don't touch it.

That should do it. Back to whatever you were doing or slaying or skating. I'm going to go upstairs and check out these VHS tapes with no labels I found on that high shelf over there. If you need anything, just stomp loudly on your way up the steps.

J.D. @ 11:10 AM
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