Prologue: Mr Kat In The Hat. It has struck midnight, the bewitching hour has come. My week in purgatory is over. When you ran your toe in the gravel road and dared me to step over it I did. It has been a long week as a dung beetle. Shortly I will go back to being just a plain Deathwatch beetle- more class. You were a good sport and joined me in this endeavor by becoming Rat In The Hat. I really think you have a wish to be on that TV show called "Can you Dance" You and Shela look like you could do the quick step real well. By the way, how come she got out of this faceless? So Matt, I imagine it is destiny that we will one day cross paths going into some restroom. I will have a bottle of Crown for you. I want the bottle back though. I refill it with cheap stuff. The kind of friends I have don't know the difference. Postalogue: Now there has been some not so subtle suggestions as to my gender bias by some nice members on this forum. To prove I am married (to a woman) I have put up one of the nicer pictures of her I could find. I am the one wearing the wig. I have my best go-to-meeting bibs on. The apron was there because I had been making croissants. This nice scene was taken two years ago today. We had a combination birthday party, I was 60, our 20th wedding anniversary and Nancy's 2nd year of menopause. We invited 100 people and two showed up. If anybody here needs 2 year old frozen croissants, I can get a case out to you quickly. As you can see in my hand was our best stemware with the finest champagne money could buy. The smile on Nancy's face was there because I was out on a 24 hour work release and she knew I would be going back in shortly. I wanted to marry Nancy when she was 13, but her Daddy thought that was bad luck and had us wait until she was 14. He drove a hard bargain. It cost me a nice Remington pump, a box of highbrass and a dozen oiled and dyed traps. I threw in a handful of snares to prove I was well to do. The amazing thing was that she wasn't even from the South (pick a state) and I wasn't her cousin. It is now two years later. Two years older, married two years longer and Nancy is now in her 4th year of menopause. We forgot to have a party this year. In fact things have gotten a little tight. She told me the other day that when I croak that she was going to look for an older man. Someone with a little more suave. I told I had all the sauve she could handle, but I don't think she believed me. She's a good woman. Works hard, "cooks" good and likes to go fishing with me.She even baits my hook. Epilogue: So you can see by the picture that I am happily married. You can tell I love my wife dearly because I have my arm around her. Shortly I will transform magically back into the regular old Postbeetle, and purgatory will have ended. Post-Epilogue: I'll bet the moderators on call jumped on that title like slick on slime.