I have been to the Ann Arbor, friends, and I have seen the Bassoonatic, the lady who hath filled the Mountain's heart with joy unlike any other, and of her I say nought but this: she is glorious.

"Wait, you don't know Brinkman?"
"Who's Brinkman?"
"Brinkman's huge."

We had a swanky dinner at the Chop House, then back to the Love Shack (the newly-minted name for the abode of the Mountain and his housemates: The All-American Boy, Sam I Am, and Tatsu the Enigma) for cake and presents. A good time was had by all. I had a delicious lobster of truth bisque, a divine swordfish steak, and some tasty garlic smashed potatoes. I cannot rightly say I know the different between "mashed" potatoes and "smashed" potatoes, but you all know me, there is no way I could have conceivably passed up anything called smashed potatoes. SMASHED!

Note to self: begin work on a Christmas list post haste.

I finished up the fifth season; as the Mountain would say, it's on now! I have to wait until mid-November for the sixth season, though, blast it all.