O'Bandteacher has sent me an e-minder for the e-vite to her Mary Kay "Girl's Night" party. Now, dear reader, this is a pig in a poke. Say it with me: shilling non-comedigenic face wipes is not a celebration; buying crap to put in your hair is not a reason to let your hair down and shake it like a polariod picture. This reminds me of Q's one-and-only experience at a gentleman's club. He was getting a lap dance, and reports thinking, "Hey! I know you don't really like me. I just saw you take my twenty." Which, upon reflection, is a great illustration of Q's astonishing ability to twist just about anything into an offense against his own tender self. Had she cost more, things would have been different...