Let's see, Gold Griz thinks he is our psychic friend, referring to a post number that, thanks to being one digit off, is thousands of posts away. The banter is about something totally off-topic, in this case pace of workload, which makes me realize just how lucky I am. (I have two slow days, and typically about two busy days and two steady ones.) A couple of the guys are staring at Gates McFadden, mackillian is fencing and wearing her hat, and I'm speaking in stream of conciousness with mispelled words, too many commas and unneccissary parenthetical notes. Yes, all seems to be exactly as moncapitane left it.