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Whew. Some party last night. My head still is beating like the back line of the USC marching band. I am not quite sure where this sombrero came from, and if anyone sees my shoes, let me know. My stomach is telling me I probably was one pig-in-a-blanket away from a serious pork overload, and somehow two boiled shrimp are lodged in the folds of my shirt. Leftover food in the shirt ... yup, some party.
It was about midway through this little soiree, around the time the chain saw-juggling midgets arrived, that a friend turned to me and said, "Well, this party sure has gotten good." And though it was late, and I had a column to write, something struck me: You just ...