First, be forewarned that any insanity that my rub off on you by reading this posting is the sole responsibility of the reader, and Fungo-Mungo, Jazz By Chas, and all their various subsidiaries hereby disavow any responsibility for side-effects suffered by the reader.

Second, be aware that should you like to make any donations to my cause (namely that of older person's revenge against misspent youth), please send them to my lawyers at Jazzy, Mushroom, Toadstools, Warts, and Chas, P.A. All payments will be forwarded to my favorite charity (me!). <wink>

Now, I would like you readers to know that one of my favorite stomping grounds is the Washington, DC, area, to which I need to pay a visit as soon as possible, since all my best friends are there, and seeing as how my sanity is quickly reaching an ebb, to which there may be no foreseeable return, save for the fact that one day there will no longer be children in residence and the Fungo house (mine)...like when I'm in my 70's ... HA! Now that you and I can see that my chances for sanity are none to negative, I resign myself to being perpetually insane...but good at it. <smile> After all, 'normal is boring,' and I hate to bore people. (Heaven forfend!) <grin>

Yes, I and my friends in DC will have to swap stories about the teenaged males of the species, whose best asset is that they are like animals: they eat, sleep, play and poop a lot...and then have the audacity to be put out when you expect responsibility out of them. Well, to that end, my wife and I bought a sign we hung on the wall for benefit of said teenagers, which they still willfully ignore. (The brats!) It reads something like this:

Teenagers!

Tired of being hassled by your stupid parents?

Act Now!

Move out, Get a job, pay your own bills...while you still know EVERYTHING!

Looking back, I should have moved out on my own when I finished high school. I was burned out, needed to make a life for myself, and should have enlisted in the military. But I had a physical disability at the time, so I couldn't have if I had wanted to. Not to mention, all of us 18 to 21 years olds were being used for canon fodder at that time, and almost all who were drafted back in those days died...young, inexperienced soldiers. In retrospect, it was probably a way to get rid of the 'hippie' problem, and to not have to rehabilitate drug users. But I digress....

These days, I find an outlet for my frustrations in writing novels. My current tome is a romance where an angel falls in love with a fine young African American man, who given the right circumstances, can surreptitiously slide from his educated erudite self to the 'brotha' that he grew up as, to the habits of the 'hood. And the sistas there, well, let's just say they can always snap their necks and point those highly manicured fingers, muttering, "Oh no you di-int!"

Well, gentle reader, if your intelligence quotient has suffered after having read this wandering tome, you have done so being advised of the risk, and of your own free will.

Any replies to this communication are greatly appreciated, and solicited. Any donations to YOUR cause(s) can be obtained from my general purpose charitable fund, which is being paid by my uncle in Nigeria, who promises me that I will help inherit millions of dollars from the estate of the erstwhile Prime Minister of Baloney, HuYuBe MoFoSta.

And with that, gentle reader, I bid you fare-thee-well.

The (dis)Honorable Chaz Fungo-Mungo Mustaffah

(HA!) <smile>