Yo, Sylvester Stallone Speaking...

If you don't regularly look at my sister Ashley's blog, then you really must click here. Listen carefully as the boxes collapse. You'll hear the sound of a fibula breaking. Maybe it's karma for my nephew Chandler, who once broke my cat's pelvis. Nah, I forgave him long ago for that, since he was only three or four at the time. Although I don't think Rusty the cat forgave him, seeing as he had to have a balloon blown up his butt to reposition the pelvis. Seriously. But that's neither here nor there. Poor Chan-man. I love you, man. Just remember, you don't need legs to play the guitar.

Posting may be slow for a while, as my hands are busy pushing my lungs back in every time I cough them up. I hope I have something to report soon that will make the effort to type worth it. If any of you decide to give me a call, don't be alarmed at the manly, testosterone over-dosed, smoker-of-fifty-years lumberjack that answers the phone. It's just me.