Black Light Karaoke at the Madison Flame tonight, and that is simply all I know. Well, I do know a few more things, but that s none of your business. As always, I really couldn t care less what you do this week or any other week, because I don t even know you. And unless you can make sure the guy in the wheelchair in Florida wins his lawsuit against the strip club where the lap-dance room is not wheelchair-accessible, I feel fairly certain that I don t want to meet you. Besides, it s time for me to blow this dump and go reread my copy of Antlers In the Treetops by Whogoosed the Moose.
—T.S.
