Dang you, Milky Way! I got an 8 out of 10.

And that says a lot about me, I suppose, that I probably shouldn't say out loud.

But who are we all kidding? Come on, my little Target shoppers, you know you're dying to take mentalfloss.com's The Daily Lunchtime Quiz, too.

Tonight's Radio Gala brought to you by the makers of Secret, Vanilla Chai Anti-Perspirant.

Setting: two co-working women-types, a secretary pool, circa 1942, complete with ambient sounds of office work, typewriter bells dinging over the workaday office chatter...


Bettie: G'morning, Mister Fleischman! Right up with that coffee, black with two sugars, Mr. Fleischman?

Jane: Mmm, Bettie, isn't it just wonndaful? That aroma--I think it's freshly baked cinnamon buns.

Bettie: Nope.

Jane (perplexed): Hot-from-the-oven Snickerdoodles?

Bettie (her pearly-white smile has turned devilishly demure): 'Fraid not, Jane!

Jane: Bettie! What gives! You know darn well I know my Snickerdoodles, gal--

Bettie (laughs coyly): Why, no Jane, don't be a dope. It's just the scent of my deodorant failing! Well, not quite--not with MY secret.

Jane (in gleeful astonishment): Say, wisegirl, are you pullin' my leg...

Bettie (with newfangled confidence): No, you silly, stupid fool! It's a brand new product from Mobil Oil, Gas, Industrial Makeup and Baby Pablum Company--it's Secret, Vanilla Chai Anti-Perspirant and Deodorant. Makes a girl nicer with that extra bit of spice...er...

Jane (productively surprised): Does it work?

Bettie: Would I, would I! ...I mean, why yes, Jane, it's simply marrrrvelous--it's the brand new deodorant that "makes that stink think twice!" It's what every working girl needs to get ahead in the workplace--the smell of hot griddle cakes with maple syrup, right from her dress shields. Heavens, I used to be the Smelle of the Ball with my old cream creosote-formula deodorant. But now with Secret, when I get hot, the Apple Pie ala Mode is what's what --with extra cinnamon! This new formula's divine, with just a touch of titrate aluminum steroid nitrate oxide phosphorusmasm, guaranteed not to give you Old Timer's Disease.

Jane: Don't you mean Alzheimer's Disease, Bettie?

Bettie: ...Corduroy...!

Bob (passing by, off to a very important business meeting with more men): 'Mornin', ladies! Say--do I smell homemade biscuits and molasses??

Jane (enviously rolling her eyes skyward): Oh, it's homemade alright, Bob.

Bettie (leans into Jane and winks): Remember, kid, shhhhhhhh--Vanilla Chai for women--it's our little Secret!

Bob (sidles back by, unintelligible mannish report in-hand): Say, Bettie, who's up for (sniiffffff) ooohoo-hoo, a White Russian or two, after 5 say, and maybe a little promotion?...?

Bettie (with swelling confidence): Why yes, Bob, I do have a few reports I have been working on late, I'd just love to show you my charts, they're cross-stitched!

Organ music up and underneath through 'til end:
ANNCR: ...while poor Jane was sent to the rendering factory instead where her bones were crushed into powder and used to manufacture mucilage glue and Knox gelatin packets--which are makes nails stronger than strong, gals!

Try Secret Vanilla Chai Anti-Perspirant and Deodorant. "If the smeller's the feller, then Vaniller's the killer."

Brought to you by Mobil Oil, Gas, Industrial Makeup and Baby Pablum Company. We light up the world, and set you aglow.

Product Review in :02

It's good. Get it.
Tomorrow's Review: Secret's Vanilla Chai Anti-perspirant.

Admit it. I know you're just waiting breathlessly for that one.

Is this thing on?

Oh hey it is. And you're still around? Well. Alright then. Thank you.

Somebody screw in one of those new curly-looking lightbulbs, and dust off that beanbag in the corner. Switch on the lava lamp, and open a window. Let me see what I can find...what's been going on...

Besides the "kid with a tail" video on YouTube?

Besides having Celebrity-ish Dreams almost every night starring John Cusack, Stephen Merchant, William Shatner, and a few other random ones I've forgotten by now?

Besides not checking my email...?

Besides stepping on my last, remaining pair of glasses, squinting a lot, watching the bad cat pop my third Pilates ball chair, spending way too much time at agkidzone and KEWLopolis watching Sushi Pack and Tinpo, crawling into bed every night with an abnormal amount of anticipated delight by the promise of sleeping way beyond normal limits, exhuming myself from the parallel universe in the morning with a less-than-Zen-like ritual involving a one-hour struggle beginning every 5:55 a.m., drinking copious amounts of Monster Lo-Carb Hi-Energy without measured results...besides dreaming away over several mind-blasting, soul-altering, culturally exorbitant, lush trips to The Excelsior Hotel Ernst in Cologne, you know, right across the street from the Gothic Cathedral with its artwork made of human bones, all down the way from a pristine stainless-steel and glass chocolate factory and glittering glockenspiel...besides rewatching every episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia twice...

Besides somehow, developing two unexplained and undesirable habits of chewing on Atomic Fireballs all day and frozen Trolli gummi bears at night?

Not much else outside of the set normal range. But I have cut my trips to the Ghetto Kroger in half, which is the only thing I could complain about (besides not being able to hang with Kevin at the art gallery)--about not cooking as much as I want to lately. As Principal Executive Pot-Licker and Empty Plate Inspector, the dog's fairly shaken up by that sad development, too. Like the rest of it, I'm pulling up the proverbial bootstraps and getting back on that horse.

Not that you should ever really mention "cooking" and "horses" in the same sentence, unless you're in an upscale, 5-star restaurant on a private vineyard in France.

What else has been going on...oh, the usual stuff like Googie got pancreatitis and the new nickname, "Baby Grand", based on his vet bill. But hey, you know I'd get an extra job doing something useless like delivering phone books or working at an ad agency in Memphis to keep his motor running smoothly. But I'd get fired because I'd just take all the phone books to the recycling bin instead.

Aw, you know me, you really know me.

What else has happened...well, damn near a lot of things. If you feel like hanging out for awhile, I need to scribble here again in the margins to myself, in between the sleeping part, the working at a place I absolutely love part with people I really love more part, but missing my mother back home part, not reading enough real books part, but along the way finding enough junk online to keep us all busy until all the beanbags go flat...part.

Oh hey, in front of me and not in a Celebrity-ish Dream: honk if you saw Marlo Thomas the other day. Just me then? Oddly enough, after that, everything seemed back to normal.

Be back soon, with photos. No, really.