Anyway, →[More:] I send an email to my man Divine Wino asking him to meet me at our local bar. He agrees. When we get there, we order our beers and we see a table being laden with sterno, foil pans and a box from Manganero's labeled as a 6-foot hero. We wre hungry so we began contemplating various vaudevillian delicatessive scenarios that would allow us to heist a 6-foot hero, all of which we abandonded as ill-conceived. Soon the table was festooned with pitcures of a friendly looking old geezer, one of which read 'In rememberance of Arnie.' Soon, Trisha Lynn and Tennesse Sam arrived. Me and Trish were hungry so we joined the line and loaded our plates with lasagna, baked ziti, macaroni salad and a hunk o' hero. We crashed a wake basically. That would make a nice sequel to Wedding Crashers, I think: Wake Crashers: Electric Boogaloo. But hey, any man who would throw his wake in a bar wuld appreciate the utility of our endeavor. Then Tennesse sam showed us his tattooed wedding ring (his wife has one too, I've seen it) and one of the foxy barmaids invited us to the opening party for her dance studio. Now, I'm in Flushing watching TrishaLynn construct her chest.

So, what's up with you?