To Betty:

It's about 5:30 am on your birthday as I write this, old girl.

Lately we haven't had nearly enough time to talk, to laugh, to enjoy our friendship. Our lives are moving so fast we don't even have time to catch up. But I know, if life blows me under, I can call out and you'll be there. No matter what I got threw, or changes plague our lives, I know that we always have this amazing bond that holds us together, across the miles, across the days.

I know this letter is a bit more somber and sentemental that birthday post usually are, but I don't think I need to tell you why. I hope that you are going to have a great birthday. I hope you play with your son. I hope Rob teases you and tells you he loves you. I hope that you know how loved you are by your friends.

Most importantly of all I say to you, if this is the last thing I ever say to you, I love you, La Boobs. I love you and I charish the honor of being your friend.

To everyone else, lift you glasses, for on this day a beautiful, loving, special, kind, deep, mystical, mysterious harlot was born.


Lord of the Frying Pan!