The Complete Idiot's Guide to Elevators

I'm back in Chicago, well rested from days spent on the beach at Hilton Head where I just laid around like two dollar whore. I was quite a sight.

In fact, I am so "well rested" that when I returned to the Season of Concern office this morning, I had a little trouble.

I walked into the building, said hello to Georgia who works security and punched the button for the elevator, but it wouldn't light up.

So, I punched it again.

And again.

And just about the time that I started to get really annoyed, I heard Georgia's voice behind me saying...

"Ummm... maybe try the Up button?"

Yep, that's right.

I spent so much time in the South that I actually forgot how to Use An Elevator.

If I lose any more of my memory and intelligence, G.W. might ask me to replace Alberto Gonzales as Attorney General.

That is, if Mr. Gonzales is ever actually fired...

And if the Bush Administration isn't over it's quota for people who "can't recall" anything and have an I.Q. equal to the number of teeth found in the mouth of a late shift waitress at any Waffle House below the Mason-Dixon Line.

Did I eat at Waffle House on my vacation?

Is that what you're asking? Hell to the Yes!

And in case you were wondering, I like my hashbrowns Scattered, Smothered, Covered and Chunked.

Make it a Triple.