Good morning, troupe. Well... what a weekend. Drank for 13 hours on Saturday. Do you know what that does to the roof of your mouth? Trust me, you don't want to. I am a putrid wretch and I feel sorry for the women on the receiving end of my warped attentions, my lascivious intentions, my barley breath at 5am on Saturday night. They have Theatre of Magic at The Shack. Enough reason to come visit, y'all! Ray, we're expecting you, soon, niggah. Heppy bearfday, Bread, you old goat. How were the mountains Psigh, mon? Yodeleheeee...