Holy good gods

YodaMan has a blog. I won’t link to it here b/c he uses my for realz name, and I’m trying to maintain the illusion of anonymity. However, if you’re interested, shoot me an e-mail at snarkynavywife at gmail, and I’ll send youse a link (unless my Crazy-Ax-Murderer-Dar goes off).

I’m in a little bit of shock because of his “weird day” he had. They went on a long convoy up a mountain, bent a rod or some such, and were stuck. Then after it was sorta-not-really fixed, driving back down, they got very close to testing the terminal velocity of an armored car off the side of an Afghanistan mountain. YodaMan was told by a Marine major that he has “balls of steel.”

I don’t. The whole story makes me want to throw up. What if there had been crazy, stupid, murderous insurgents up there? WTF???

He did get some cool photos, though. It’s interesting seeing Afghanistan through a camera lens. Not interesting enough to make me look forward to photos, but I suspect that reticence is more a function of the panic I feel over the fact that he’s there at all.

 

More internet funneh

Since it’s been a while (a whole week at least zomg) since my last vanity check on the blogging stats, I logged in and started messing around, following some links and getting lost in the ego that is apparently me. Who knew? Anyway....

 

The hilarity. Let me share it.

 

Over at Do My Animal Noises Bother You, I found a link to this here blog, and when you pass your cursor over said link, you get the description: Hilarious and “chipper”. First, let me just say how it warms my heart to be called hilarious. I laugh at myself all the time, but I think it’s because I’m a witless dork and not necessarily because anything I have to say has brought teh funneh. But I’ll take it! As for the “chipper,” um. Obviously it’s in quotes for a reason, right? LOL Too funny! And if anyone who reads this is stationed at Whidbey, swing over to her blog and say hi. She’s looking for some info and camaraderie.  

 

Now for some new search phrases that tickle me:

 

batman dragon skin

beware of navy guys

creating the navy wife

deployment/sex

drunk wife neigher felt up (maybe they meant neighbor?)

haunting of laurel bay military housing (wow, did I tell you guys about that?? hmmm)

is navy wife the hardest job in the navy

navy chief don’t get drunk

navy nko sucks

navy wife belly dancer

should never have gotten married

snarky bollocks (LOL!)

what is up with google results

while my husband and I are fucking (TMI!)

navy detailers lie (I think I reported that one, but it should be stated again)

 

Alas, still no Croation boobs. How’d you say you got those, Kimba?

Maybe it is time to go

Yesterday, it sprinkled a little bit – real sprinkle, not the typical, misty San Diego version of it. There were huge splots here and there where ginormous drops of rain had hit the earth, and the air had that metallic smell that comes right after a rain, before the smell of wet grass permeates. Though around here, grass doesn’t usually get a very wet smell. The earth is so parched, the grass drinks up water and begs for more. Scent cannot be wasted, you know.

 

After the sprinkle had passed, I was at Henry’s (a farmer’s market chain store) checking out when BOOM. Thunder.

 

Everyone startled and looked outside with huge eyes.

 

My first thought: “What the hell was that?”

My second thought: “Oi. It’s definitely time to get out of SoCal when that’s my initial reaction to a single boom of thunder.”

 

I relayed this to La Vegan Loca this morning, and she made a good point. When you hear something boom around here, it’s either bombing at Pendleton or it’s an earthquake. Rain is pretty rare, and thunderstorms just don’t happen. Like, ever. So of course the more common occurrence – your friendly neighborhood earthquake or war exercises – is the more likely culprit.

 

So like I said. Maybe it is time to go.

 

Why I Dislike Detailers

In response to a valid comment by navymomof2, I’m going to mea culpa here. I try not to make grand, sweeping, generalized statements because they are universally never true (snicker), but I have done so with detailers. I’m not sure if I started my detailer ranting at the start of this blog with my caveat, but it never hurts to reiterate even if I did.

 

No. Not all detailers suck. I’m friends with a former detailer. He’s an awesome guy who genuinely cares about doing his job, doing the right thing, and doing what’s best for the Navy. Those don’t always overlap when you’re a detailer, though. I’m sure his ethics made his detailing job difficult when his work influenced people’s lives, financial well-being, long-term career options, and short-term happiness. I’m sure there are detailers who are great people. I’m not sure there are many detailers who are good detailers, and I’m not sure if that’s a result of a shitty setup (how can they be good when they’re set for failure unless they meet sailor-screwing wickets?) or if it’s because of a general malaise inspired by a landlocked billet far from the stresses of shipboard life.

 

Again, not a universal attitude, but it’s pretty damn prevalent.

 

How did I come to this conclusion, anyway? Allow me to explain.

 

1996. Four weeks of notice to make a cross-country move. Then at the last minute, additional school, after the move had been scheduled. Because of the fuckwittery, I was unable to attend my great-grandmother’s funeral when she passed away in transit to the new duty station. If the fuckwittery hadn’t happened, we’d have had the extra cash for me to take that flight.

 

2001. YodaMan requests 1 year orders to Bahrain. After a pissing match, detailer relents and gives him 3 year orders to Bahrain.

 

2003. YodaMan berated by new detailer for hogging the Bahrain billet.

 

2004. YodaMan denied every set of orders he wants. Finally bait-and-switched into DC orders that were not what he had been told they’d be.

 

2007. YodaMan denied requested billet. Lied to about requirements of the billets he requested. Swindled into an IA and follow-on orders he didn’t want. Lied to about when he’d get the follow-on orders (it’s been nearly a year since that initial lie and eight months after we were told we’d have them). Given an “accidental” extension. Extension retracted...almost, sorta, kinda, as the IA is about a month longer than it was supposed to be. Now, after all the drama, he’s told he’s not smart enough to get that degree, and now he might be extended two months (read, three months total) after all. Odd how that’s the same extension he’d initially been given....

 

Once is an incident. Twice is a coincidence. Thrice is a trend. What’s this, a quince? Quintet o’ incidents?

 

Whatever, this is why I have so very much trepidation regarding detailers and why I often lump them all into one big massive ball of asshattery. It’s not fair, as I’ve said, but I’ve only seen YodaMan get a good deal from a detailer once (and even then, I think it was just a convenient outcome for the detailer).

 

To all the good, hard-working, ethical, fair detailers out there: thank you. Now quick, find more like you and detail them to the other detailer positions!

 

(And to navymomof2, it’s heartening to know that your husband took an IA, an actual non-Tampa IA, in the midst of his detailing tour. I’m sorry for you guys, but it does speak volumes about him.)

Deployment Gremlins, Seitan, and Navy Drama

I thought I posted this on Wednesday, but apparently Blogger had a hiccup.
~~~

Deployment Gremlins struck again. My washing machine stopped draining. It took about an hour of sweating and grunting and unscrewing and draining and wet-vac-ing the water up, but I had one load go through and drain fine, so my fingers are crossed. I’m also about $5 richer (plus some weird hinge thing, a Mr. Potatohead mustache, and a bucket of lint) after unclogging the damn thing.

Tried my hand at seitanic pot roast in the crock pot today. Note to self: do NOT be bashful with the seasoning. Otherwise, yum. Not bad for a bunch of guesswork and no recipe to guide me. :)

But now for the Grand Navy WTF. Remember how much I gushed about the family service center for the IA folks, and specifically Shannon? She’s still awesome. I was really disappointed with the IA get-together last week, though. It was a HUGE waste of time, and I came away frustrated and annoyed. I can tell you how the whole night went when I share this little tale...

One of the women was there with her husband. This wasn’t noteworthy since some folks there were looking down the barrel of an IA, and husbands came with to see what was what. This woman’s husband had just come home two days before the meeting, and apparently this woman had been pretty active with the group for the year-plus he was gone. So she talked to the group for about two or three minutes about how awesome the group was for her and how much she appreciated a few of the people who were there for everyone. Meanwhile, three women sitting in front of her (not facing her) were busy rolling their eyes as she talked. Slouched in chairs, rolling eyes.

Seriously? For real? That’s how you act at a support meeting?

Yeah, that about sums up the evening. I didn’t speak to a single person after I checked in, and we were there for a good hour and a half. Tried to infiltrate a few groups but got the cold shoulder each time. Feh.

Today I got an e-mail from the IA family services advertising a women’s retreat. I had two issues with this:
1. How the hell are the moms/dads with IA spouses supposed to go to this awesome weekend retreat away from everything to journal and relax? They need four more people for this thing, so clearly... send it to the IA women!!! Yeah, that makes sense.
2. Why do the only retreats (women, couples, family) available seem to have a religious undertone to the descriptions? It wouldn’t be an issue if I ever saw it was a Buddhist or Jewish or Hindu or... whatever chaplain. But they’re always Christian. So it leads me to believe either I’m not welcome or I’ll at least have to filter everything said through my particular religious filter if not ditch suggestions altogether. Which doesn’t sound very retreat-like, y’know?

I think it would be really cool to have non-religious retreats available. Or if religion is going to play a part in them (and I get it that it can and even should for lots of folks), can we at least make it not just non-denominational but non-dogmatic? Let’s discuss in a group if need be, and bounce ideas. Would that really be so difficult for the chaplains to facilitate? And if it is, then why the hell are they chaplains?

Feh. Off to check the laundry. Please be drained. PLEASE.

O to the M to the effing G

Sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful IA that started from this navy port and took YodaMan away.

 

I swear, just when you think the Navy has pulled its most outrageous maneuvers.... Check it, yo!

 

The detailer is back at his alabaster desk of gleaming godliness, and he deigns to respond to YodaMan’s frantic e-mails that are the mild and politic version of “where the hell are my orders, beotch?” Here’s the conversation in non-Navy speak (as I understand it):

 

YodaMan: WTF? Wifey has family emergency, kids need to get into school, where are my orders? WHERE ARE THEY?

Detailer: Chill, dude. It takes 3-4 months to get your orders cut, so sit back and enjoy that there IA.

YodaMan: You said in NOVEMBER of last year-

Detailer: Dude, I got your back. I’m pushing this through as fast as I can – just for you! Peace out, and you’ll see those orders next month. Oh, but they’re for the new fiscal year.

YodaMan: I’ll get orders in September for October money? How does that work?

Detailer: Uhhhhh, look, it’s a bright, shiny object! Over there!

YodaMan:  WTF???!!!!

Crickets: :chirp:chirp:chirp:chirp:

Detailer: Oh, dude. Major issue. Looks like you’re not smart enough for the degree you wanted. We’ll try to get you a waiver, but that probably won’t work out. After all, this is the Navy. Hey, you’re okay with a master’s degree in Wire Pulling for Warriors, right?

YodaMan: WTF???!!!!

The Masses: Um, seriously? We’re talking about YodaMan? The guy everyone refers to as “scary smart?” The guy who earned the nickname Yoda because of his mastery of the computer network force?

YodaMan: So, what happens worst-case scenario?

Detailer: Oh, dude. We’ll just extend your IA to March, and then you’ll take 60 days of leave that you might not have, and then you’ll do some refresher courses to get started in the fall of next year. Haha, but dude, the classes are already full, so I’m going to have to pull some magic out of my ass to do that. Oh, and if we can’t get you a waiver, we’ll just put you in  that other wire pulling degree. But the classes are also full. Peace out, dude.

YodaMan: WTF???!!!!

 

YodaMan has now sent the request to his detailer that, if this is going to get too hairy, we want to stay in San Diego. I’m pulling for that outcome at this point. This whole thing is retarded. YodaMan has officially declared that he doesn’t know how he’s going to make it another 6 years to get to retirement, and that degree from NPS isn’t exactly going to translate well in the civilian world. The business and finance shit he did in DC and Bahrain, coupled with his brilliant tech mind, will open more doors for him than the Golf Certificate he’d earn in Monterey. Seriously? Wire Pulling? Jesus.

 

Right now, if YodaMan can get his promotion in a year or two and retire at that level, I’ll be thrilled. Get him into a job in the civilian world, making more money than he earns now (by far) and pulling fewer hours, plus retirement pay. That would be hot. I don’t want to see him make captain. I don’t want to see him become an admiral. I think that kind of life would suck for the whole family. I’d much rather see him riding a desk in a building downtown.

 

Fuck the Navy. Fuck detailers.

 

We’re getting quotes for packing up the house ourselves since the Navy won’t take care of it. There’s another couple of thou out the window. Thanks, Navy! Thanks for taking care of those who serve at the tippity point of the spear! Not to mention the families that are left at home to get the shaft of the spear!

 

Meanwhile, we’re holding off contacting the admiral until we know the status of the orders. It might all be completely moot now.

Goddamn Detailers - Beware the F-Bomb, for it is plentiful

YodaMan has been in Afghanistan for two weeks, has been in theater for three weeks, has tried to get in touch with his detailer (who is subordinate to my husband and yet is calling him by his first name without invitation...god complex much?) and the senior detailer, to no avail. If his detailer had been delivering as promised, the orders we so desperately need would be here right fucking now. Are they here? No. Why?

 

His detailer went on vacation. But wait! There’s more!

 

The senior detailer is also taking a vacation. So who’s detailing right now? :insert crickets sound bite:

 

That’s right, folks. You heard it here first. While our service members are fucking doing a lock and load during convoys and participating in memorial services for their brothers and sisters, the detailers are all kicking back, sipping on Mai Tais, boning their wives, playing with their sprogs, and enjoying the lifestyle that can only be had in good ol’ Memphis, Tennessee. That’s grits, baby, with a side of slow and easy.

 

The other day, I pulled a fast one. I e-mailed the wife of the admiral my husband worked for before his happy little IA began. I only wanted to know if there’s some kind of back door access to the personal property office (the folks who organize movers to come pick up your shit and transport it, for you civilian types) when you don’t have orders in hand. She didn’t answer me. Instead, she discussed it with the admiral. And they wanted me to call on her cell phone to chat about it.

 

I freaked out and backpedaled. The admiral had offered to be of assistance if any “funny business” happened during the IA. In my mind, I have visions of all kinds of horrible things happening that I’d require his assistance on, so I didn’t want to bother him with any kind of paltry orders issues. Plus, there’s the detailer retribution, which always sucks. YodaMan had that happen to his Bahrain orders, and the results were three year orders instead of one. In Bahrain. Yup. So we’d rather not make trouble, y’know?

 

Anyway, on the phone tonight with YodaMan, I was telling him that my mother is coming, once and for all, on September 8 to help me close up the house and move back to Bammy. If we get orders before then, we’ll be able to rent our house and not go into horrible debt. Otherwise, we’ll just hold off packing out the house until February when he comes home (er, when the detailer claims he’s coming home), which means we’ll be out a good 5 or 6 months of rent. YodaMan made the following declarations:

 

1.       E-mail the admiral’s wife and pass along the detailer information. YodaMan’s willing to bite back if that scumbag, piece of shit, bait-and-switch, “I did my IA in Tampa-stan” asshole detailer wants to come at him with retribution orders. Yay! I thought he was going to be mad at me. :)

2.       He’s got one more contact at Millington (for you civilian types, that’s the base where the detailers kick back and play god). He’ll call him in the morning, and if the guy says ‘them’s the breaks’ or ‘you’ll have to wait for the NPS slate’ (whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean), YodaMan is backing out of the Monterey orders and requesting more San Diego orders.

 

That second option would actually be a HUGE relief. The elder sprog would have his pre-school and the speech stuff he needs with the people who like him so much. Now, I hate this house, I hate this neighborhood, and I can’t wait to bail out of here and get into something rent-y, but I’m willing to stick it here for financial reasons. Plus, if I know we’re going to be here, I can apply for some jobs, and I can go ahead and get my kid on the waiting list for the local charter school (so he’s not stuck at the elementary school in this neighborhood, where the scores are so low, I wonder how the school even exists anymore). There’s nada that I can find in Monterey, but there’s stuff here. Maybe I could even switch gears and find something teaching.  Plus I have friends here. Good friends. Friends I adore. Friends who are VERY sad that I’m leaving, and who I’m VERY sad to leave behind.

 

Of course, since I’d prefer that outcome, it won’t happen. Because that’s the Navy way. Read Anchored Away’s mind, and do exactly the opposite. That’s the Navy’s unofficial motto.

 

So now I have new goals and tasks. Meanwhile, actions taken thus far on the detailers:

1.       E-mailed Congressman Berry. Complained mightily. I might make a more direct complaint, complete with names and dates just to make that god-complex asshole regret ever fucking with my husband.

2.       E-mailed the admiral’s wife to beg for her Navy-fu to provide info.

3.       Prepared a gnarly bitchcraft spell that I will happily unleash on the assholes who are fucking with my husband’s well-being and my family’s life.

4.       Brain-drafted letters to send to my senators and to the local rag. Maybe I’ll even send something to the Navy Times just to be a complete fucking bitch.

 

More to come.... I can’t wait to unleash the fury on this set of fucktards at Millington. Beware the angry snarky nay vee wife, for she is a tough bitch, and she has spent the last thirteen years sharpening her teeth for just such a battle.

Wow - Terrorists and the Border Patrol

Did you know the Border Patrol can seize your laptop and any other equipment you might have on you and download information – even private information – without either a warrant or even probable cause???

 

I’m shocked. I knew we signed away our souls with the repeated passing of the Patriot Act, but holy shit.

 

:sigh:

 

Win! LOLBush

You’ve got to see this WIN the Guardian did. LOLBush! Yeah, baby!

 

 

Check ‘em here. Enjoy the warm, tingly sensation of WIN all over your body.

 

As seen at D’arque Cathedral.

Last Detailer Straw. Bring On the Voodoo

That’s it. I’ve given that LT Happy more than enough leeway here. I don’t care if he’s “just been following guidelines of the detailing community.” He’s officially moved from my shit list to my CanOfWhuppAss List.

 

Get this.

 

YodaMan has been in country for a week now. A week.

 

LT Happy went on leave for 10 days. Without processing YodaMan’s orders.

 

When he comes back, he’ll process those orders. It’ll take 14-28 days for that to happen.

 

Then it’ll take another prolly 2 weeks for Personal Property to arrange to have my house packed up and my household goods shipped to storage.

 

Which puts me back home at best in mid-September but much more likely in October.

 

My father had bypass surgery a few weeks ago. My mom needs me now, not in October.

 

My son needs to go into speech classes and pre-school. Starting in October (at best) and then starting in a whole new home in March (after 3 months of prior school at best) does NOT help him overcome his fucking speech delay.

 

I need help and time off to write now. My term ends in October, and that’s when I have to have my first draft completed.

 

Oh yeah, and I also have had a manuscript requested by an editor (on another book), and that manuscript isn’t done yet. I need to finish it. Now. Not in October.

 

I’m done with this motherfucker. My congressman’s about to get a fucking earful.

 

PS – How the hell does a 50 year-old man die of pneumonia in America? That’s fucking tragic, man.

Fascinating Google results

I just want to share some of the hilarity that is the search words that bring people here to the snark. Because it’s really freaking funny.

 

“cool things about being in the navy”

“snarky skivies" (sic)

Batman Bahrain

Cigar and wife (which gives me images of Monica Lewinsky, bless her heart)

How to be a navy wife

How to navy wife (wow, navy is now a verb! That opens up all kinds of literary possibilities.)

Lies from navy detailers (when they speak, it’s a lie)

Navy ia +”blood pressure”

Navy it detailer problems (yeah, join the club)

Navy wife creed (srsly??? For realz?)

Navy wife rules (more lollering)

Navy wife whore stories

Obama (wow, I really came up on a search for Obama? Lollllering)

Oh ship (you and me both, hon)

Perks navy wife (LOLOLLLLOLOLLLLering)

Pissed off navy wife (YEAH!)

Snarky paranormal romance (sweet!)

Wife it (which feels like a fun version of f#%@ it – heh heh)

 

And my all-time favorite actual search term:

http://snarkynavywife.blogspot.com...... really? Srsly? For realz? LOL

 

Now for the questions people used for their Google-fu, and my answers:

 

Can I get a wife while in the navy?   Yes, if one is not issued in your seabag (hit or miss depending on the budget, y’know), one can be acquired through the NEX. However, please be advised you may only have one, you pay return postage if she’s defective, and she’ll probably be a little bit stale. You can go on the economy to find one if necessary.

Can navy army take their wife? The correct term is NARMY, and if by “their” you mean the saildiers’ wife, there’s an issue. More than one service member cannot acquire the same wife. Assuming it’s a typo, I have never heard of the NARMY spiriting away a wife in the night, so she’s probably safe from those evil bastards.

Can you be forced to go ia in the navy? I laughed so hard reading this one. I’m not sure it’s necessary to answer. Person who google-fu’d this geniusness – if you go into the Navy, they own you. They can force you to spend your entire career jetting between Guam and Adak, Alaska, if they so choose.

Do I want to be a navy wife? If you have to ask this question, the answer is probably no.

How does the navy work?  It’s broken. It doesn’t work.

How is it to be a navy wife? It sucks.

My husband is in the navy, what about my job?  If you want to be married, suck it up and be prepared to subjugate your career to his. Otherwise, geo-bachelor.

What benefits do I get for being a navy officials wife? A Navy official? Or officer? I dunno about the officials, including who they are or what they do that’s so official, but the officers’ wives get the same benefits the enlisteds’ wives get, which amounts to an epic pile of fail.

What the hell is snarky? Um, y,’know, that’s a damn good question. Hmmm.

What’s the hardest military job? The spousal position – mostly because it’s an unpaid position with suck-ass benefits.

 

Ahhh that was fun. Since I’ve realized I had the power to see these tasty tidbits, I’ve been very aware of the completely tardtastic search phrases I’ve used lately. I just hope some of the ones I’ve used give folks a smile, too. For example, I enjoy typing in variations on certain key phrases my friend over at La Vegan Loca has blogged. One of the phrases I found tonight pops her up to the top of the list. Join in the fun. Click here and then follow that top link to her site. I guarantee she’ll call me next week saying, “ZOMFG!” It’s not as great as Kimba’s Croatian boobs, but hey. We can’t win ‘em all.

A Few Notes of Knots and Stuff

It won’t be much longer. YodaMan is about to become acquainted with Afghanistan. I don’t expect to hear from him for a while as he makes the transition to his new duty.

 

My stomach is in knots. Absolute knots.

 

Especially since I read about a wedding party on a bus that got blown to pieces (killing bride, groom, and family including children) because of a roadside bomb. Where? Oh, in Afghanistan.

 

Note to terrorists: I’m sure you’re making every effort to win friends and influence people, but somehow I can’t imagine this kind of activity will endear you to the general population. You might consider the wedding party martyrs for your cause, but I’m not sure their surviving family feel your excitement while they plan multiple funerals and mourn on what should have been a wonderful day. So, in short, nice move douchemeisters.

 

Note to the detailer we lovingly refer to as Lieutenant Happy, Purveyor of Orders for Officers Who Outrank Him, Which Gives Him an Unfortunate Case of a God Complex, Which Will Be Crushed as Soon as Karma Kicks In and Nails His Ass While I Have a Nice Belly Laugh: Boots have been on ground. Card has been swiped. All your moronic wickets have been met from November to now. So it’s time for you to Do Your Job. I know, it’s a stretch, asking a detailer to take off the cloak of evil that’s issued to you when you arrive in Millington. I know it’s even a little bit difficult to set aside your massive...tracts of land...and sit down in front of your computer. But you can do it. I have faith that, as with Darth Vader (in the original trilogy, not in that sad, pathetic, kid-tastic reminder that Lucas has absolutely no skill at writing decent - much less effective – dialogue, characters, and believable plot), there’s a nugget of pure goodness buried somewhere in that tar-crusted heart of yours. And after all, you owe us. Big time.

 

So get off your lazy, pompous, self-important ass and do your effing job. Meow-kay?

I'm drunk

I usually don’t drink much when I’m the only parent around, just in case The Shit Goes Down, but I’m so done with that high damn horse right now. I haven’t really got my drunk on in about two years, if. And tonight, I needed something to force me to relax and quit spazzing out over my husband’s imminent arrival in Afghanistan, land of exploding IEDs and countless convoys full of exploding IEDs.

 

So I drank – count them – two whole glasses of mead. Did I mention I’m the world’s fattest lightweight? Srsly. For rizzo, yo. I didn’t mean to get drunk. The other night, I had two glasses of wine and felt nada. Tonight, my lightweightness returned full-force. Ooops. Go me.

 

Anyway, I got my drink on after I e-mailed le husband about really cool news about our elder sprog. Background 411: elder sprog will begin counseling this week because his outbursts and tantrums have become violent lately and I have no idea how to help him understand that normal daddies don’t go away all the time like his daddy but that doesn’t mean his daddy doesn’t love him (because apparently mommy saying such words to him doesn’t compute).

 

YodaMan’s response was to be all excited...about the fact that two of his guys (as in, guys from his LAST billet) have made chief.

 

WTF??

 

I’m pretty sure his real response got lost in my spam filter and that he expressed due excitement over such a wonderful milestone, which I’m of course celebrating like a single f#@$%@ing mom would, but it’s not here, and it’s not in my spam filter, so I’ve had two glasses of mead.

 

So there.

 

And now I can’t feel my teeth. Sure hoep they’re still there.