A Clean, Well-Lighted Place To Get Stupid

Okay, the tryptophan can hit aaaaaannnnnnyyytime now.  Up early, cooked all day, had a lot of turkey and here I sit, 11:36PM where I am and I'm wide awake.  This is so wrong.  Jose Chung is off in Tahiti (and still pouting about missing the Lonely Buddha plush toy bonanza) and my Magic 8 Ball is apparently with Phylly3 (she called Armitage's interview with Strombo months ago) so here I sit, twiddling my thumbs.  You know it's going to be a bad post when the figments of your imagination hightail it elsewhere.

I was thinking about one of Frenz's posts from the other day and I want to join her in encouraging whatever anonymous nervous writers are thinking about blogging.  I also want to take a second to thank you guys for reading my nonsense post after post, the good and the grieving and the things that really really suck.  When I signed up to do Nanowrimo this year a friend told me to not be afraid to be stupid.  After I stopped snickering -- because, as if -- I realized that I already have a stupid place and it's here and it probably wouldn't be without you guys.  So, thanks for letting me be stupid and sometimes for getting stupid with me. 

I can't play "Dare to Be Stupid" again so...Weird Al polka medley?  Don't mind if I do.