She Speaks

Ode to the HPLC

Madame Raine — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 20:14:54 GMT

oh you Bastard Machine, 78 thousand dollars of LAME. I watch you fly out the window of my lab while the sound of broken glass is music to my ears. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you HPLC. Your name sickens me. Moody piece of shit. Fuck your over pressure alarm. Fuck your percentage retention time. Fuck your processing methods. I hate you so much. Integrate this, you plastic man-made jerk wad. Process my overwhelming RAGE. Integrate my fecal matter. Now that's a peak I want to see. Bet you it's consistent. Let it defile all your lines with my message of vile, unadulterated HATRED. Let me introduce my colon to your column. I waste my time sitting with you, cleaning you, feeding you. Unappreciative piece of LAME. Oh, HPLC, The machine of my nightmares. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. Fuck you and all your kind. The End. PS. No one will understand this unless you're a scientist. ha ha. I'm an elitist today. But I do feel so much better.

Dropping off the Face of the Earth

Madame Raine — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 20:12:03 GMT

After 7 months of arguing with the National Board for Massage License Exam Corporate Assholes, I have finally scheduled my board exam for next Saturday, June 14th. My deadline to take the test is midnight the 15th. Needless to say, I will be absent from all classes, phone conversations, texting, and human contact until then. Wish me luck, all. I'm switching gears to Super-Mega-Studying-Machine!!!! Until Next time, The Madame.

ow. my fucking finger.

Madame Raine — Tue, 25 Mar 2008 02:52:43 GMT

Sometimes, ladies and gentleman, living the raw food lifestyle is dangerous. In the process of preparing my delicious raw lunch, the universe decided to enhance my recipe: - mixed organic exotic greens (I don't even know half the names of them but they all taste good). - dulse flakes, for salt and minerals - fresh organic tomato, for color - fresh organic cucumber, for coolness - flax seeds, to shit better and get your omega 3's - raw kelp noodles, cuz noodles are fun - mixed fresh sea vegetables, for the asians - apple cider vinegar, for health - cold pressed non filtered olive oil, for the greek (that's me.) and for the final gourmet touch: - PART OF MY FUCKING FINGER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i haven't lost my finger, just my fingerprint. my boss sent me to urgent care, and after two hours they couldn't really stop the bleeding. i'll go in tomorrow morning to get checked. i wouldn't be too bent out of shape about it if it weren't for the doctor telling me no weight bearing exercises for 3 weeks! you know what that means?! no yoga! *cries* fuck you, salad. fuck you. and Mandoline slicer? REALLY fuck you. to the chunk of my finger i saved, the bidding starts at $13.00 happy bidding!!!!

Everyone has a day Job...

Madame Raine — Wed, 19 Sep 2007 20:28:02 GMT

Mine happens to be related to the healing that bellydance gives us. I am an Esoteric Healer. After studying many amazing healing modalities including massage and subtle energy work for over three years, I am finally launching my business, Align Delta. The name stands for balancing and smoothing all the changes that we go through emotionally and physically throughout our lifetime, so we can enjoy life to its fullest - free of pain and discomfort. This Saturday, September 22nd, the launching of my new business begins. I await with excitement and a little bit of anxiety, for my desire to help others so overwhelming because I see so many people in pain, sadness, or in need of a quite ear. So please send your love, your presence and blessings toward my path of service. Here are the details... Come join Raine and her colleagues at the Institute of Progressive Therapies Open House! Bring your friends and loved ones to enjoy light refreshments, free treatments, yoga, and win prizes at the raffle! If you attend at anytime during the day, you will receive from me a promotional coupon for a thirty-minute treatment for only $15!! Institute of Progressive Therapies 2333 Camino Del Rio S. Suite 240 San Diego, CA 92108 Saturday, September 22nd, from 10am to 9pm. The event schedule is listed below: 10:00am - 1:00pm Sun Salutationathon (K.Lee Kappmeier)* 1:15 - 2:00pm Tai Chi for Busy People (Wil Dieck)* 2:00 - 5:00pm Tui Na Massage treatments and Total Body Modification Treatments (Renée Kortge)* Sound Healing treatments (Beth Bolwerk)* Total Body Modification treatments (Todd Williams)* 5:00 - 5:45pm Yoga Therapy Intro and Demo (Anne Joseph)* 5:00 - 7:00pm Tarot Readings (Adrienne Abeyta)* 6:00 - 6:30pm Ask the Body: The Path to Health (Todd Williams)* 7:00 - 9:00pm Monthly Gong Bath/Sound Meditation (Beth Bolwerk) $20 "The happiness of one's own heart alone cannot satisfy the soul; one must try to include, as necessary to one's own happiness, the happiness of others." - Paramahansa Yogananda * Free events

Breathing

Madame Raine — Thu, 05 Jul 2007 19:57:48 GMT

Go lightly, simply. Too much seriousness Clouds the soul. Just go and Follow the flowing moment. Try not to cling To any experience. The depths of wonder Open of themselves. - Martha Volchok

Food for Thought...

Madame Raine — Thu, 12 Apr 2007 19:23:26 GMT

Struggling, trying to physically manipulate the circumstances of one's life, reveals a misunderstanding of how those circumstances were actually created. And for the focus placed on them during the struggle, it actually serves to keep things from changing. Acceptance, on the other hand, reveals an understanding that today's circumstances arose from yesterday's focus, encouraging introspection and fueling new thought, actually serving to hasten change. - a note from the Universe

Procrastin.......ation.

Madame Raine — Thu, 29 Mar 2007 21:35:02 GMT

50 Things I would rather do instead of writing this paper I'm not interested in: 1. Studying TBM 2. Yoga 3. Dancing 4. Talking with Friends 5. Watching a movie 6. Cleaning my bedroom 7. Organizing my costumes 8. Reading 9. Making more costumes 10. Knitting 11. Petting my Kitties 12. Driving somewhere 13. Organzing my office stuff 14. Doing my taxes 15. Cleaning the bathroom 16. Cleaning someone else's bathroom 17. Cleaning a public bathroom 18. Watching a soap opera 19. Watching the Tyra Banks show 20. Baking a cake with Cyanide frosting 21. Eating my toenails off my toe 22. Shaving Rush Limbaugh's balls 23. Bathing in mink musk 24. Vomiting 25. watching soft porn 26. listening to country music 27. building a bomb shelter 28. peeling my cuticles off 29. plucking my eye lashes 30. jogging 31. eating pork rinds 32. getting a massage from Barbara Bush 33. delivering a child 34. delivering the antichrist 35. delivering the mail 36. working any of my old jobs 37. getting a catheter 38. making out with Paris Hilton 39. getting my teeth pulled 40. becoming born again 41. getting my big toes amputated 42. playing "who's in my mouth?" 43. cross country skiing in the desert 44. wearing a crown of thorns 45. living in the 60s 46. choosing decorative wall paper for a dentist's office in the midwest 47. wearing a yellow sun dress 48. getting sexual reassaignment surgery 49. doing complex physics equations 50. writing a blog.

That which submits, rules.

Madame Raine — Wed, 08 Nov 2006 19:11:29 GMT

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. " -Frank Herbert Let this be my victory. Awaken the Sleeper.

the red sparowes

Madame Raine — Tue, 26 Sep 2006 16:52:47 GMT

The great leap forward poured down upon us one day like a mighty storm, suddenly and furiously blinding our senses. We stood transfixed in a blank devotion as our leader spoke to us, looking down on our mute faces with a great, raging, and unseeing eye. Like the howling glory of the darkest winds, this voice was thunderous and the words holy, tangling their way around our hearts and clutching our innocent awe. A message of avarice rained down and carried us away into false dreams of endless riches. "Annihilate the Sparrow, that stealer of our seed, and our harvests will abound; we will watch our wealth flood in." and by our own hand did every last bird lie silent in their puddles, the air barren of song as the clouds drifted away. For killing their greatest enemy, the locusts noisily thanked us and turned their jaws toward our crops, swallowing our greed whole. Millions starved and we became skinnier and skinnier, while our leaders became fatter and fatter. Finally, as that blazing sun shone down upon us, did we know that true enemy was the voice of blind idolatry; and only then did we begin to think for ourselves. the red sparowes -every red heart shines toward the red sun

Things that go BOOM in the day

Madame Raine — Tue, 19 Sep 2006 22:05:18 GMT

There are Mexicans stomping all over my roof right now. Seriously. They are horrible tap dancers. Every stomp makes me jump. And I thought I could sneak in a quick nap. My poor cats.

The Art of Artichoke

Madame Raine — Thu, 14 Sep 2006 19:25:06 GMT

- 1 Artichoke, boiled or steamed - 2 spoonfuls of veganaise (or mayo, the good stuff not the lowfat crap) - juice squeezed from half a lemon so you can feel strong and curse when the seeds fall in - garlic powder, a pinch - cumin, two pinches - paprika, a pinch So good...in my mouth right now... Yum.

Blogging is not easy.

Madame Raine — Wed, 13 Sep 2006 03:29:42 GMT

I admire those who have humorous or inspirational daily blogs. I myself can never find the time or the words. I figure if you write everyday, even if it is nothing special, it's practicing. Maybe it's the fear of free association and what could be hiding in my head at any moment. Nah, I think I'm just lazy. I decided not to go to dance class tonight because I had too many things to do around the house: a pile of dishes, a mound of laundry, homework, etc. But instead, I will attempt to procrastinate even more and blog. It's funny. I don't believe anyone would get any entertainment out of reading my blogs, but it had just occured to me that an online journal is nothing different from the journal you keep for yourself, hiding underneath your mattress so your parents can't read about what boy you were making out with or how drunk you got in college. Um, who am I kidding? That wasn't what I had in my journals. Basically, when I look back at it, my journal entries were bursting with self loathing, bitterness, hatred and desperate blood stains. Perhaps that is why I haven't kept a journal since I began to love myself. I know that it is time to make that transition to Memoirs of love and learning - but like everything else, it takes practice. The only thing that pisses me off is that other people will read it and unknowingly cast judgments on me (especially my punctuation and spelling errors). Then again, isn't it always the idiosyncracies that make you love someone even more? At this point in my life, I do not yearn to be loved by others. Or i should put it: I have so much love in my life from my friends, family, myself, and the love source that I don't feel that kind of void. Therefore, today begins the day that I don't give a shit what someone thinks of me when they read this blog. I will not select "friends only" and I don't really have lesson to share. I don't even know if I will keep blogging, but I'll give it as they come. now to check for spelling errors... jsut kidding.

The Ball Pit

Madame Raine — Fri, 28 Jul 2006 00:43:50 GMT

My husband rescued a Chuck E Cheese coin out of a vending machine at work the other day. I thought it was funny, who would try to get a candy bar with a token? Well, People are stupid... But it made me remember when I was a kid, and I went to the place where a kid can be a kid. I had a birthday party there (don't ask me which one) but I got a Cabbage Patch Kousas (sp?) from my parents and i carried it around the whole place, showing the creepy mechanical larger than life puppets, that blinked when there wasn't a show. I remember the pizza being the best there; better than Pizza Hut or Domino's, because I was so happy to be there. Then it occured to be why I was so happy there: The Ball Pit. Dude, I miss the Ball Pit. My life changed completely when I went to Captain Kids' World at SeaWorld - where they had the *real* ball pit. You know you remember it! The illustrious Uber ball pit. You just wanted to dive in and swim through balls. They were harder and smaller than the balls at Chuck E Cheese, and the pit area was MASSIVE! Just the sound was amazing and all the colors. That's what I miss about my childhood. So I think they need to have an adult ball pit. Adults can go on the Inflatable trampoline thingies, why not have an adult ball pit? Better yet, have an adult jumper thingie that you could jump into a ball pit! Wouldn't that be awesome? Have it four feet deep - the perfect depth, so you could barely feel the ground. Remember how tired you got when you went in the ball pit? It's the perfect stress reliever (aside from sex). You can come home, play in your ball pit, and then have dinner. That's the cure for obesity: The Ball Pit!! Apparently, I heard that the ball pit is no longer at Sea World, which is so sad! No more children can have such fond memories as I at the Uber Ball Pit. One day I will grow up and be able to own a house with a back yard, and I'm making myself a damn ball pit. We can have Ball Pit Parties, and play four sqaure with a cherry ball and all the silly little rules, I would be queen of the Ball Pit. Bow down little ones - I wanna dip my balls in it, in the ball pit.

So, I've been tagged...

Madame Raine — Thu, 22 Jun 2006 05:43:39 GMT

You people! Why do you want to know so much about me? Silly taggers... This is for Jenny and Bonnie. OK, so here's some stuff that not too many humans know about me: 1. I am half deaf. I read lips. I wear hearing aids, but mostly during lectures because my Chinese professors form english words entirely differently than others. 2. I love John Denver. I think that his voice is absolutely crystal clear and fills me with joy whenever that PBS special about him is on. 3. I put popcorn in my cream of mushroom soup. You should try it sometime, it's awesome. 4. My favorite movie as a child was The Last Unicorn (still love it). I never saw Labrynth until I was in Junior High where my eternal crush on David Bowie was started. 5. From about age 7 to 16, I was in a Greek Folkdancing group. We won third place in the Folk Dance Festival and beat out other dance groups from Greece! 6. I'm a photographer, although my work is not for the squeamish or easily offended. 7. I have a lovely singing voice. 8. I see dead people, although they prefer to be regarded as Spiritual Guides. I communicate with them, and they communicate with you, even if you don't believe in them, or you least expect it. They love you. So there you go! Are you surprised? I have no idea who to call out. Although I'm curious about Asshole and Sooz...

Khrom: Aug 2003 - Feb 2006.

Madame Raine — Sun, 19 Feb 2006 03:10:02 GMT

Today we had to put Khrom down. Over the past two weeks, his health was deteriorating even more. He looked miserable. A couple days ago he was sitting on my lap, and it hit me that he had not purred in weeks. I felt so bad because he was notorious for being a purr factory. When I asked him why he wasn't purring, he looked at me and I knew that it was time. I spent some time with him last night. I talked with him, and told him how much I love him and how happy he made me and my husband, and that it was ok for him to go. All this time he tried so hard to jump up to the counter so he could rub heads with me, and show us how much he loved us. He gave me a happy foot massage and kept me warm when I dozed off, keeping true to his unconditional love. This morning at the vet he just stood near us, hugging us and was entirely calm. It was a beautiful death, he just sighed away as I wept. I'm relieved that he no longer suffers, and I will never forget what a wonderful baby kitty he was. To Khrom: I love you. I will still think about you, your little songs you would sing about your toys, where you were going in the house, and your seven fingers. Glad I didn't call you Mittens or anything, I know you would have been mad. I hope to hear your purr in my dreams.

The Happiest Day of My Life...

Madame Raine — Mon, 23 Jan 2006 05:09:31 GMT

I have always thought that saying your wedding day will be the happiest day of your life was a trite cliche, but to my surprise it is actually true! I couldn't have asked for a better celebration: -All my friends were there -All my family was there -my girlfriends danced for me - and then pulled me up to bellydance in my wedding gown! (not easy, seriously) -my hair and make-up was absolutely perfect, thanks to the wonder talents of Capt. Medi -I danced my wedding away, in a huge gown fit for a queen, and I remember living out my dream as a child. -and most of all, the ceremony was the most beautiful and spiritual that I had experienced. every two minutes I would phase out and meditate about how much I love my dear husband, Paul, and how I was ready to spend the rest of my life with him. I found out later that he was doing the same thing! Today, I'm still not used to being a 'wife', but we have noticed a deeper connection between us. I love my husband, and I could have never asked for a more beautiful and amazing soul to merge with... to Paul. love, Renee

Guided Imagery - Part one

Madame Raine — Mon, 10 Oct 2005 17:44:20 GMT

Since I started school, I've been going through some major changes. Irritating, awful, painful changes. It's amazing how you think you are getting better, recovering, exorcising the demons that have tortured you for so long... and then you realize, the reason they come up every now and then is because these issues weren't clearly dealt with in the first place. Imagine the fear that you have to relive these traumas and emotions, and sort through once again until they come by like unexpected visitors. These univited visitors come to me in my dreams, my subconscious, from every angle and attack me when I am least expecting it. Like now. It's obvious that in order to become a healer, I must learn to heal myself. However, I thought I was much further, and I felt like a failure to think that all my 'precious' work that I had done on myself was to no avail. It got me to where I am now, though, right? I wouldn't have stayed alive this long. So, understanding that I must deal with these torturing visitors, these monsters in my closet, I must invite them in. I was petrified with fear the first time. I kept hyperventilating and exhibiting breathing patterns unknown to mankind. Scary. But then, I dove deeper: I named the emotion: fear. I chose a color for it: deep blue. It was shaped like a sea urchin and was situated in the middle of my chest. It had a bitter taste to it, and I wanted it to go away. But I stayed in meditation to see what was next. I asked for any other feelings associated with this fear - why is it so strong? What am I so frightened of? And then it hit me. I was young again in elementary school, where I was horribly picked on for being different; for being a freak. I was so afraid of being different and that people would laugh at me and reject me. Then I felt a wave of loneliness wash over me. I'm so alone because I'm different. I'm a freak, a loner. Nobody wants to be friends with me, because I just don't have it right. I tried to be like my peers. I tried so hard, that whenever I failed I would pummel my chest and my legs at night as punishment for being so different, so abnormal, so wrong. I stayed in this moment, feeling like my head was about to explode with emotion and pain. Then I was instruced to let silver light in. I came into my psyche and found the crying little girl in the corner. I hugged her with all my might. It's ok, little girl. you can be allowed to love yourself. I accept you the way that you are. You are unique, special. At that point I started sobbing and weeping even harder. My face started burning, and I was gagging as if I were vomiting out this sea urchin of fear. Its poisonous shards were digging into my throat, reluctant to leave. At the same time, I started to calm down a bit. I could sigh, and breathe in just a little more. Finally, I opened my eyes and found that my sleeves were soaked in tears and snot. What a sticky process. And for some reason, I can't wait to do it again.

School Again

Madame Raine — Thu, 08 Sep 2005 00:55:18 GMT

Yes! I finally made it! School has started this week and I finally made the decision to get off my ass and follow my dream - become an acupuncturist. Now it seems like that was the easy part. There is SOOOO much work! I'm SO overwhelmed! I feel like I don't even have enough time to wipe my ass! My first day of school was yesterday and what a fucking nightmare! First off, I have lost my $4000 hearing aids. I have not idea where they are, nor the time to turn the house upside down to look or for them. so please anyone who reads this send helping vibes and make them appear. Then, to add to that, I'm sick. I got sick on Friday and figured that I would be fine by Tuesday. I woke up and I was worse! I was sneezing and sniffing and blowing my nose all through classes, highly embarassed, and with a splitting sinus headache. THEN during my first class, I set down this full cup (I'm talking a 20 oz container) or lukewarm tea.I couldn't figure out where to find hot water because I'm retarded (what Chinese Medical School doesn't have hot water for tea?), and my retarded idea of running the kitchen the sink 'hot' water was not working. I figured I would return to it, maybe it needs to steep for a half an hour or something. Well, I had forgotten about it and three hours later (When class was over) i got up to realize that I had spilled the tea all over the floor - all over my bookbag carrying about seven books. Yay. Luckily, (the only luck i got that day) it did not leak through my book bag because it is waterproof somehow. Oh, did I mention that my pen exploded two hours into class? Yeah. How about that. Then when I came home I couldn't study for shit. Not only because my face was throbbing and clogged, because I was so overwhelmed, disoriented and stupified that I couldn't concentrate. Plus Chinese philosophy is hard. I'm a math girl. 1 +1 =2. Concrete. easy. Philosophy is impossible to my brain, especially when I psyche myself out like I'm doing right now. Oh! I just did it again. Wait, yup, I just did it again. Can you tell that I'm procrastinating doing my homework? Well I got through the first day ok, the second day was a little better, except i showed up a whole hour late to my second class because I'm a bonehead!!! AHHH! God dammit. I wish I could adjust right now, this second. I wish I could retain information like a genius. I wish I understood the Tao. I wish I had countless hours to study, and learn about stuff that is amazingly intriguing, but difficult to grasp. They week is not over yet. I have three classes to go, and I think they will be a little better. I don't believe what I just typed, but I will dictate my future because I need to feel like I'm in control. It's a good thing I don't have that condition where people pull their hair out because of stress, I just get fat. Shit, which one is worse? There are some beautiful wigs out there... OK I'm going to stop that right now. This is ridiculous. Over all, My first day, although it was a nightmare, was really funny when I look back at it. I need some time to adjust, and I can learn this stuff, as long as I sleep with all my books underneath my pillow. I'm glad I have Sabrina's class tonight so I can shake out all this anxiety and crap.

Dear David.

Madame Raine — Fri, 05 Aug 2005 21:04:11 GMT

I was recalling this story to a friend of mine today, and I thought it would be interesting to share here as well. Back in College in Santa Cruz, I knew this guy named David. He was this wirey, Woody Allen-looking type who was brilliant and a film major. Whenever he saw me he would announce my presence and tell anybody standing near him how cool I was. I found this very amusing; he always made me smile. One time, after I introduced him to the 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon game, he asked me to write a bunch of game quizzes for him so that he could succeed in staying awake naturally for 5 days. He did it, by golly, and I wasn't surprised. He was a whacky guy... As the years passed, I left Santa Cruz in search of my sanity and had found out the next year that David had gone up the fifth floor of the dorm, sat up on the balcony, wrapped his legs in the american flag, placed a double barrelled shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. I was so sad to hear that yet another one of us had succumbed to the hardships of reality and escaped. What I had found out later that his two best friends had known his plan, and helped him follow through. At first I didn't know what to think about it, but David's first suicide attempt was when he was five years old, and had battled relentlessly with massive depression all his life. When he asked his friends to give him a reason to keep going, given his mental history, anguish and circumstances, they couldn't think of anything. I had related this story to someone some time ago and they were mad at David's friends. But after I thought about it more. I think these guys believed that they were exhibiting true, selfless dedication to their loved one. That is rare these days... I miss David sometimes. I hope he is finally happy and when he returns to this earth, he will still make people smile the way that I do when I think about him.

Just so tired...

Madame Raine — Wed, 03 Aug 2005 23:41:50 GMT

I had to be at a meeting at 6 in the morning today. It sucked. Especially because I could give two shits about my job. I should be lucky that I have one, and that I can still work one day a week while I'm at school, but my motivation to come in and do real work is close to zero. I can't remember a time when I wasn't so damn lazy. I think that's what really scares me about starting school again: my amazing talent of procrastination. However, I have this feeling that everything will be fine because it is my calling. I was born a Healer, and I assume that refining my abilities to help other people will be something that I will jump out of bed to do! YES! I Please I need to massage hairy sweaty people that want to tell me about how much they love American Idol and how Jessica Simpson is the perfect version of the american woman!!! Where do I sign up?! Look out world! Here I come! (Is it wrong that I would rather Heal the smart ones and let the rest (and unfortunately the majority) suffer?) All this time I'm sitting on my hands counting the minutes until I start Eastern med school, yet I can't Heal myself? Self love and acceptance is the biggest challenge that anyone will face in their lifetime, so I should give myself credit for coming so far. I guess that takes time too. note to self: your patience is anorexic.

I'm a virgin.

Madame Raine — Tue, 02 Aug 2005 19:54:00 GMT

It's true! I've never blogged before. Ok. I guess I'm not longer so cyber innocent anymore. I think from reading everyone's blogs every now and then makes me wonder if people would feel the same way about me if they came across my thoughts. In a sense, it's wierd - I feel like I know someone better because I indulge in their blogs and if I see them, they wouldn't know who I am. It's like I'm a fan and secretly want them to be my friend? Oh, who knows. I guess I thought that maybe people would find my life interesting, which it is, but they would appreciate my personality more - given that I'm such a secretive little scorpio. There is a serious side to me... I swear. I guess I consider it vulnerable so I rarely share it. I used to be really into journal writing in highschool and half way through college. I don't know if it was a recovery thing (yeah it was - it was crazy reading all the brainwash banter that would purge from my mouth when I talked about my massively abusive boyfriend and justified that it was the best I could do and I deserved it) but I miss doing it. Everytime I pick up my journal I end up reading past entries and laughing, telling myself that anyone would get a kick out of my jokes and experiences. But I would never write in it, just bathe in the nostalgia that I have amazing prose when I'm depressed. So what the fuck? Why the fuck not? Even though I cannot have a tangible piece of paper with my chicken scratch, I think being able to defrag my mind every once in a while is healthy. So listen up everyone! I've got some great stories. I'll post them when they come to mind.