Slap a curly wig on me and call me

A little over a month ago I wrote about getting thwacked by that stinging red dodgeball. Now, you'd think that having felt that welt once before, I would be hypersensitive to it's evil ways. If that's what you think, you give me too much credit because when that crimson rubber sphere came flying at me, I forgot to duck.

Could I be more cryptic (spoken with pure Chandler Bing emphasis on MORE)? If you are interested in more of the story, I'll let some others tell it for me.

Start with a Cup O'Joe.

My sister, The Editor discusses the weather.

The Editor questions medical "science."

A Cup O'Joe to finish it off.

So, that's where I am. A 37 weeks pregnant, 39 year old orphan girl.

All I'm sayin' is that sun better freakin' come up tomorrow!