It's fun to get pissed, it's fun to get over it. It's fun to grid too much for a while, it's fun to take my humble place at a reasonable pace in a nice place with plenty of lighting and good people.

It's that I had that Forrest Gump just-out-of-the-braces glow going, and didn't want to waste the opportunity to wear out the soles of my shoes or else they might have never gotten holes in em.

If I interfered with anyone else's expression while I was at it, I sincerely apologize. The thought that art was not created honestly pains me. I'm a fool like that.

Mark, I think your math is a little suspect, since it should have been a whole number out of 147, and 4.94736842105263157894736842105263 looks like the start of an irrational number. Are you insinuating that I was doing what was approaching irrational fractions of grids during the period 470-490? That's as preposterous as it is true. Nice.

As for the criticism, just please try to keep it on the positive.

I'll slow it down.

Like right now I'd like to make a panel about how the air in Chicago strangely smelled like Butterscotch tonight to match Roz's reference to the smell. I'd be a pretty happy guy if the air always smelled like butterscotch. But I'll chill.

(Lucy's Fur Coat says that candy was heaven sent, but that you shouldn't believe that lie that they just said. The bastards.)

Easy, Thanks, Mike