Chance dictates a 30 hour window to de-synchronize and gargle the Leave it to Beaver theme. Culinary Circle pizza, Breyers triple chocolate gelato and black box merlot usher in the opening ceremonies; add an overnite hall pass and it's raisin cranberry shortbread to the rescue. Oh I zig'd and I zag'd before following the kool deck road but that was stipulated. Point is there's a hoe-down going on right now plus imagine a conjugal visit and it's pretty much perfection.

Spinoza revealed that "The more clearly you understand yourself and your emotions, the more you become a lover of what is". I electro-shocked myself and skipped the amnesia part just so I could dig the post-drama texture to all this and that greeting from the mirror this morning shouted "I love what is".

Wrapped in a ribbon of fly away, non-matted hair, Wrinkles disappears. He is notorious for being swooned by the sway of the sagitos, but no one else in the room mattered. Maybe it was his frown that triggered his trademark lines which christened him a wrinkled man. It still mattered to Humpy Hump - who quietly never left the room. But day's dusk enters for another lights out. Click.