You're most certainly welcome. It is due time such a thread were started. It seems, though, that I have done so much for so many, I often have difficulty remembering what it is that evokes such gratitude, so if you could remind me what generosity you're referencing, it would be much appreciated.

I'd like to thank Hanover for being the minority here and still making everyone else feel like the minority.

Hanover is nothing if not ironic. Or is he a paradox? He's certainly heterodox. Nothing queer about him!

I think he's just one of those old school dudes who has problems expressing emotion.

I think he's just one of those old school dudes who has problems expressing emotion. — Mongrel

This is much more accurate than you can imagine. I'm really working on it. It can be entertaining and even occasionally endearing, but it's generally limiting.

Alright, enough sharing. Get back to work.

I think he's just one of those old school dudes who has problems expressing emotion. — Mongrel

Nah. He's just old. Well over 40.

He's just old. Well over 40. — Benkei

Jesus. Someone prepare the undertaker.

I'm a bit confused now. Has Hanover funded a cancer ward or opened a soup kitchen or what? And I take it due to age and infirmity he's retiring? We don't really do gold watches...Can someone just send him a card or something? And make the writing nice and big so he can read it. Cheers (Y)

Let me allay your fears. I am not retiring, and I remain an incredible physical specimen, being able to run hundreds of miles, lift thousands of pounds of weight, and perform sexually for hours (sometimes even with someone else in the room).

As you have correctly assumed, I did in fact start a soup kitchen specifically for cancer victims, having the belief that there is no better cure for one's ills than humility, thus forcing a limited meal of cheese sandwiches and watery vegetable soup on those with cancer. I feel that should my prescription of humility be ineffective, I will at least have performed a useful experiment for academic purposes, so it all won't be a loss.

Speaking of my age, I am 50. What that means is that I remember before there were cell phones, computers, cable TV, or gay people. It was a different time. There was actually a milk man back then, who would sexually satisfy all the young mothers and then leave them a quart of milk. Milk came in quarts back then, as it should. The bottle was glass, not plastic, like it ought to be. You could let your dog run loose back then, and if it bit someone, it just proved to you that dogs bit sometimes. Like everyone, we had an American car that wouldn't start, just like expected. You could punch your friends in the hallway at school without getting suspended because boys were supposed to punch each other.

I could go on and on, but I'm starting to get sentimental and weepy, so I'll take a break.

Hanover's senile blatherings have got me worried. As a solution, can we make the writing on the card VERY big. I guess Medicare will take care of the rest. (Oh, and feel free to punch him if you think that will help).

(Oh, and feel free to punch him if you think that will help). — Baden

Bring it on whipper-snappers.