NO, THE OTHER ME . . .

Have you ever wanted to do something crazy -- I mean, really wacky, nutso, impossible, only in your dreams crazy -- no matter what the consequences? I'm talkin' streak-buck-naked-down-the-street, punch-that-person-in-the-face, lean-over-and-give-him-a-kiss-in-front-of-everyone, free-fall-out-of-a-plane, say-everything-you've-ever-wanted-to-say, throw-things-out-a-window-just-to-hear-the-crash crazy.

Oh, yeah.

Imagine the possibilities.

***

IT'S THAT KIND OF DAY . . .

When everything is surreal, when the edges of the world are kind of blurry, when toilet paper bits in the bottom of the tank appear to lie in the shape of an apple pie, when time seems to be moving backwards and you could have sworn it was 3:52 p.m. half an hour ago, when memories seem like they never happened, when dreams seem like reality, and when you have Christmas songs like "For Unto Us a Child is Born," from "The Messiah," running through your head.

For unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given, and the government shall be upon His shoulder; and His name shall be called Wonderful Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.

***

HOW OLD AM I? . . .

So, I know this attorney who's slightly uptight, even as far as uptight attorneys usually go. He's nice enough and funny enough, and certainly quite bright and capable (which, sadly, is more than can be said for most in our trade), but very proper and efficient and ... well, uptight. He got married a few weeks back, and I had an occasion to encounter him soon after his return to work from his honeymoon. He was still uptight. So, naturally, Hooch and I had a great giggle over this, for reasons which shall remain not spelled out in vulgar terms.

Earlier today, I had the occasion to speak with him again, and he was NOT uptight. He was charming and gracious and effervescent and effusive and cheerful and loose. And of course, my first, my immediate, my only thought was: Oh good, he's gettin' some.

Oh, my gutter-brain knows no bounds.