Good Morning, Yoko?

This morning I woke with a rather vivid image of a cake-faced Yoko Ono. You see, we were at her bungalow buying dog food. Apparently she sells it. One large bag of top grade Plastic Ono Chow that came at a pretty stiff price, and we don't even own a dog. Oh and don't worry, it wasn't all business. She was kind enough to play a few tracks from her upcoming album Well, Actually, I Am Indeed a Witch and serve us large pieces of chocolate cake that quickly found their way to spreading themselves all over faces.

That said, I think I'm getting over this cold. Thank God it was a short one. I've been more and more prone to these nasty bouts with snot & flem the past few years, but this time I came to the party prepared. I have a wife who knows how to take care of me and keeps an army size supply of vitamin C in the house.

Miami & I don't always get along. Last time I got the flat tire. This time I got the cold. When standing in a parking lot between a carnival and a karaoke bar, Miami always picks the karaoke bar. Miami doesn't think it's funny to drink a giant wine glass full of milk. Miami wears sweatshirts under palm trees. Miami & me could never be friends, only accomplices.