Think there'll be an arm in the Clinton Library on how not to get caught? (Is Barbara Bush playing a gameboy?? Inquiring minds wanna know.)

Barbara Bush.

I've come to the conclusion that alcohol, drugs, etc., are not the way to deal. When in doubt as to how best to dispose of the body of the person who's caused you grief without the evidence trail leading back to you (hey, I watch a lot of CSI), do this: Change your bedding. The scent of fresh sheets and clean jammies will solve almost any problem. Now the insomnia that results from hearing bad news is a different animal. You need drugs for that. Or at least, lots or NyQuil.

I've been gone for a bit. Was sick for a minute and had to be hospitalized for a little over a week. (When morphine and oxycontin quit working, you know it's time to leave the hospital. Or start a meth habit.) A friend called to find out where I was cos she hadn't received my indiscriminate email forwards in a week. Another one thought that the best way to cheer me up was to tell me she was pregnant while I was laid out on the abovementioned narcotics, then say it was a joke. Yet another dear compadre decided that the best way to bring a smile to my face shortly after I was discharged was to ask, "So, lose any weight when you were in there?" As can be expected, I'm reevaluating the friendships I've invested in thus far.