One of my personal favorite games to play is, "I was born in…" And, then watch the recipient of that knowledge dash off to contemplate their own mortality, while sucking on a can of compressed air. I use this at times, like this morning, when I cannot comprehend my own name, let alone a two-way conversation about… whatever (please refer to Wednesday morning for explanation). And, since this game will only work for a little while longer, I'm trying to get as much use out of it as I can:

Greyhound Fan stopped by my desk a little while ago. Apparently, I remind her of someone that she knew a long time ago, who was married to the lead singer of a band called War,

GF: "I don't know if you remember them, it might be a little before your time. War was an offshoot, of like, the Monday's, who were really big when Tramline was touring, and I guess they sound a little like the Sounders - "

Temp: "I was born in 1980…"

GF: "Oh, God…," she says, with the blank stare of a Greyhound in headlights, "My step kids were born in the 60s." Then she slowly backs away.

Mission complete.