I'm at this long, winding, whoville-ish dinner table with a bunch of people eating roast beef. As I finish my meal, Queen Elizabeth comes running up to me and asks if I will talk to my friend from 1st grade, Colleen Smith, to see if she might be "interested" in connecting with her. I thought it would be no problem and I asked The Queen if I could get back to her using email. She excitedly said "Of course" and went trotting to the altar at the front of the cavernous space with me following. The front of this church-like dining room opened and behind it, in the same compartment that the host and wine were stored was a gem-encrusted recipe box. When she opened it, beams of soft light shone from it. Inside the red velvet lined box were her cards. The cards were black and white with little pictures of chubby cherubs and in the middle was her email address.
No matter how much pain you're in, don't take Vicodin before bed.