the flu is a real sonofabitch. the sidewalks of brooklyn are covered with snow outside, but my head is a tropical 100 degrees and i'm stuck inside dreaming of high tides and six packs of budweiser while the egg yolk is dipping slowly in a summer sky. the television is slowing my brain, but it's a trusty friend that never stops keeping me company. anyways, put some charcoal on the grill, let it get white hot and i'll be around in a few with some good jokes and a few cold ones to ease us into the summer night. Are those the neighbors who are lighting off firecrackers?