How about "Doin' Time in Rock and Roll: A Primer".

I'd love to think it was the Big Dawg, but until proven, I'm assuming nothing.

I'd do a chef's thing for teenagers in a heartbeat, but for all I know, there are nine versions of Julia Child along for the ride, and I'd best leave it to them. But I'll add it to the profile.

one space or two

Good grief.

I'd be far more envious of Bill remembering Deb than I am of that sweet invite.

Give me two periods after a sentence or give me death.

Hm, doesn't really stir the blood, does it.

But I forgot he has more resources to Find Out What This Person Is All About than the normal person has. We have Google; he has -- god only knows

Oh. My. STARS. I am now laced tightly into an image of his reading my comments on his lickability, and my head wants to explode.

Screw it. I stand by it. The man is designed by nature to be licked. Really.

Meep.

I imagine he isn't too put off by hot, intelligent, fierce women wanting to lick him. Just a guess.

And as noted elsewhere, the weekend prizes civility. Certainly licking him is quite civil.

It would be rude NOT to.

Well, that's what I think. But Hilary may disagree.

And she has Secret Service wonks at her command.

Is five times in 24 hours too much for most men?

...Clinton references...

Yes. And most men are not Presidents.

Glad I could solve that for you all.

And she has Secret Service wonks at her command.

"Bruno, that woman is licking my husband. Shoot her."

"Yes, Senator."

And connie sums up the likely scenario.

I am chuffed like a chuffed thing, in a sort of weepy way. Just wrote the first song lyrics I've written in nearly a quarter century. Fiddling with guitars acoustic and electric to see what sings.

song lyrics:

CRY FOR MEMORY

Cleaning out my closet, cleaning out my heart
I'd clean out my memory banks but I don't know where to start.

So much dust and mystery all that lovely history
I can't really seem to see a seam to pry apart
Cry for memory.

Once I thought I knew you, once I saved your ass
Fed your cat and loved you, love, believed that we would last

So much back there to regret I can't quite relinquish yet
Thirty years, I can't forget you colour all my past
Cry for memory.

Chorous:

If, if, what if, had I done this or you done that
I don't see a difference in the end we'd both still be gone

How much of us was wasted, how much of us a lie?
How much of what I couldn't keep was 'cause I didn't try?

And when I broke and when I ran I didn't really understand
That when I left behind the man I lost the right to cry
Cry for memory.

If I had a single wish just for old time's sake
I think I'd choose just one more day a clean whole heart to break

Maybe someday I can say "I got it back, and it's OK:
You never loved me anyway"
Just one lie for both our sake
Cry for memory.