Please Help!

This is the one day of the year that Lara lets me out of the basement. I'm a little fatigued but the fresh gruel has done me well. Of course it's hard to eat with the duct tape on my wrists but I manage. Of course, it would be slightly more bearable if that @??!! McCauley wouldn't keep telling her to punch me. He's a cruel one. Never trust anyone with Scott in their name. Never.

I tell you, I'm just a mere shadow of the person I used to be.....

Actually, like Bob, I'm just trying to figure out how this blogging thing works. Lisa (aka Trixie in Technical Support) pulled a fast one saying I was on the list, but I wasn't. Did anyone else have to send her cash to get on "the" list?

I've been told that I have to pay her "per word" so I better wrap this up. I'm posting a picture that, despite my high-brow Shippensburg Etchewkasion, still makes me giggle. Ah, the arts.

Another thing that makes me giggle (ok, well the one I can write about): I remember a party at Ross' dad's cabin. Ross, Joe and others were playing poker for dry pasta. Somewhere deep into the evening it transitioned into pretending that you were cracking your nose, neck, or whatever by chomping down on the dry pasta to make a sickening cracking sound. I remember everyone escalating the challenge to make the funniest gesture to match the sound. I honestly don't think that I have ever laughed that hard.

My sides still hurt. Or, that could be from Lara punching me.