Sigh. Like I said Roscoe, can't you write a Bill Walton-ism on the melding of your brain and T.O.'s physique. C'mon...ya got me all upset and paranoid there. I haven't even be able to work on my Rap Sheets of the Suspects. Make me laugh.

P.S. And I just tried to delete my rant and it's too late. Boo. I'm having a rough morning in murder2@pf.com.