I'm back from Rochester, and I've got some stories to tell. I won't do it now, but in a later post I'll flag for having content that young children and anyone with sanity will want to skip. The story basically comes out of a threat to DeluxX in the vein of "If you don't stop, I'm blogging this." And, to keep my credibility, I'm going to have a disturbingly true story about sharing a hotel room with one's brothers (specifically, mine).

As an aside, I really miss you-know-who. I have a really funny idea that either (a) I should be talked out of or (b) would be fun to dive into for a little while. Either way, she'd be the one to do it. And that's how it hit me. As Hank Scorpio said, "You can't argue with the little things; it's the little things that make up life." In retrospect, that would have been a great short joke, but it's not what I mean. All right, this is turning into the blogging equivalent of a drunk-dial.