So what am I doing at 5:30 in the morning looking for clues in some drama that seems to be a mystery only to me? I can tell you this, the brandy won't keep the kernels out of your teeth but it will make you forget that they're there.
Why do I get the Karl Malden role? I don't want Marlon's, either. I seem to be assigned a number on a very long list. I accept the position, I suppose, because another person's drama is appealing when held up to the bleak nothingness.
Yeah, I've got my own list. Number one hung herself. Thirty something years had bleached the innocence of pure love but her mother blamed me. I guess I do, too.
What am I supposed to do with this magic orange stone now?
Are you ready for the holidays?