Mail Call

After my cryptic post-weekend post, my friend Jayne emailed trying to guess exactly what zaniness occurred:

hmm. Curiouser and curiouser. Guess I will just have to wait... but I can't! I am normally quite a patient person, but in this case I will now spend the next seven hours postulating possible scenarios, each more bizarre than the last:

• TF6S was jumping about in a vat of grapes and stepped on a silver penny, at which the owners of the vineyard rushed him in joy for having found the heirloom of their house after 100 years. He was made a complimentary son and is now a bazillionaire, but of course decided that this should remain a secret, and is living exactly as before. Sensitive because: it's a secret, of course.
• TF6S was jumping about in a vat of grapes and suddenly the Pope joined him. In the shock he fell out of the bucket, and in a horrific twist of fate, unfortunately had to have his leg amputated from the knee down. Sensitive because: the Pope reads his blog.
• TF6S was jumping about in a vat of grapes which were actually very small purple extra-terrestrials that opened a wormhole to a distant galaxy under his feet and he slid away into the world's only manned flight outside of our solar system, only to discover the end of the wormhole was the coffee cup in his office. Sensitive because: the aliens read his blog.

Am I getting close? Of course, if any of these scenarios are remotely close to the real thing, I shall go away and bury my head in creosote in shame, as I would not wish amputation on anyone, least of all you. The aliens, though. That might be cool. :-)

Ahhhh! Get out of my head!

::cleaning soda out of nostrils:::