And it's like the fog has lifted...

I took a survey for Martinellis the other day. One question asked, "What would be the ideal situation for you to be drinking Martinellis?" I answered, "On an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone... surrounded by enormous piles of money!" Snicker....

When I talk to my dad on the phone, he usually asks where I'm gonna be in August. Trust me pops, not a day goes by where I don't ask myself that same thing. But, as big things loom on the horizon like dusky clouds of mystery and indecision, I find that my ability to scatter them and bask in the sun of accomplishment always comes through.
[pulls a trumpet out of his own pocket and plays it]

So where will I be come August? No idea... but I didn't know what I was going to write my popular bridge for 361 on until tonight, and then it hit me like a brilliant revelation of success! "I propose to compare the Cask of Amontillado to the Count of Monte Cristo" [takes a bow amidst thundering applause].
So I could only sing in my head, "At last I see the light!" But strangely enough, when I sing this cheesy Disney song in my head, there's always a girl singing with me. So, does that mean that to scatter the clouds of the unknown, there must needs be some female in the instrumentality of my own wordiness? Just the thought makes the clouds seem darker and bigger and more ominous and more... feminine.

"I've got scrapes and lumps and bruises, and something here that oozes, and let's not even mention my complexion..."