Taking a momentary break from my accustomed Saturday afternoon habit of
needlessly torturing one unoffending thing or another, I strolled about the
yard, cigarette, wine glass, and knife in hand (how DO I do that?), and
eventually arrived at the front stoop. There, much to my surprise, a
representative of The United States Postal Service (presumably) had left a
suspiciously suspicious looking parcel.

"Eh? What's this?," thinks I, perhaps ungrammatically but with all due
caution. "Hm.......a North Carolina return address. Well, this IS
ominous!"

Nevertheless, after x-ray examination and a two hour balsamic vinegar,
walnut oil and Bouillard's hot sauce marinade, it became obvious even to the
most casual observer that this was perhaps not as dangerous experience and
good sense suggested.

"Well, I be go ta hell," I observes (not entirely without justification),
"it's my Christmas present from that rude, stup.......um.......uh.....from
Jeffie!"

Casually breaking with tradition (so, sue me), I hereby apologize to the
incomparable and indomitable Mr. Miller..........I didn't get anything for
you yet.

Wolfgang
but i got a lead on some terrific fresh (more or less) frozen pasties!!