Way cool! Can I have your autograph?? 
It’s amazing how much two words of five letters total can competely deflate the mood of a sentence and make it a hundred times funnier.
Congrats, Boyo!
I just woke up from a nap and a small nightmare that, if dreams do connect to reality, must be related to my situation. I say small because it was kinda scary, but not really terrifying, and ended with nobody hurt.
I was napping at home – my old apartment in Washington, DC, a huge old brownstone with 7 floors and a hundred apartments – when I awoke to the sound of someone fiddling with the door. I walked to the door and asked who was there. No answer. I asked again, and again no answer. All the sudden the bolt of the lock turned – they had a key. I threw my weight against the door and jammed my foot right up to it, and stopped them from opening the door. And I was able to twist the lock bolt back to locked. The bolt turned again and someone tried to push in, but they weren’t trying very hard or just weren’t very strong. So we’re in this stalemate for several minutes. I’m holding the door closed, but I can’t get to a phone, or to anything else to to help me jam the door. I keep asking who is there, and don’t get any answers. Oh, and I’m also naked, and feeling very vulnerable. Finally I start to make a lot of noise in the hopes my neighbors will hear and call the cops – pounding on the door and screaming, “Call the police!” But I didn’t want the police either, since I had a bong and a big bag of pot on the coffee table. (That was the normal state of affairs when I lived in DC in the 80s). Anyway, the pressure on the door lets up, and I hear at least 2 sets of feet running away. So I crack open the door and look. There is still one guy standing there looking embarassed. He’s wearing a powder blue suit jacket, a white and blue checked shirt and a dark blue tie, and white pants. His face looked for all the world like Flounder in Animal House. I screamed, “WTF do you WANT?” and he just bowed his head and walked away. Somehow I knew they were with the press.
Then I woke up, and remembered I had a similar RL incident back then that ended much more violently. I was seeing this girl, who was also breaking up with her maniac pill-popping boyfriend. He follwed her to my building, and was standing on the street outside screaming up at us, “I want my drugs. Give me my drugs.” Maybe she had his drugs, I dunno, but she was screaming back at him to go away. He seemed to, but a few minutes later there was a horrendous pounding on my apartment door – someone had let him into the building (actually, I found out later he smashed through a glass door). So I’m calling 911 and they’re screaming at each other through the door. All the sudden the door opens – I found out later SHE opened it thinking she could ‘talk him down’. But he just immediately grabs her and hauls her out into the hall, and starts beating on her since she is resisting. And I go out and start screaming STOP and try to pull him away, but I might as well have been pushing at a wall. He’s much bigger and stronger, and his eyes were needle points. He was on something.
So I go back in the apartment to look for a weapon, and all I could come up with was a Wilson metal tennis racket, and I take it back out and start wailng on his head with it. He drops her and comes after me. She runs back in my apartment and locks us both out. He snaps this racket over his knee, and he’s left with handle, which has two jagged pieces of metal sticking out, and starts coming at me. Finally, with my neighbors opening their doors and screaming, and there being this huge uproar, and people are saying the police are on their way, it penetrates his head that it’s time to leave. So he throws this thing at me and goes away. The jagged metal things cut two parallel gouges in my leg, and I needed to go to the ER, and ended up with 70 or so stitches. He ended up getting arrested at a different ER. I had split his scalp open 2 or 3 times, so he ended up with a bunch of stitches and spent the night in jail. When I got home late that night, it looked like a chainsaw massacre had happened in the hall. Blood sprayed all over the walls and pooled on the floor. I thought it was all mine and just about passed out on the spot. Later I figured it must have been almost all his, because by the time I was cut, the fight was pretty much over. I never even noticed he was bleeding.
So my evening has not gone so well. Nightmares and flashbacks.
VERY scary, Jim. No wonder you work with computers… :eek:
And congratulations, too. I lived in California near to San Jose for a long time and have always enjoyed the contest and the winning efforts. It must take a truly twisted mind to come up with something that, um, unfortunate in the way of an opening sentence. 
Congratulations, Boyo Jim!
Boyo Jim…
I am without speech…