At a bar on Wednesday night, I had a spontaneous palm-reading session. A strange little Italian man in red track pants took a shine to me and, well, to my palm apparently. He sayeth (with a funny Italian accent): "You are like child. Yes. Very like little child. You . . . you must be in the center and you talk to many people. Yes. Child. And you will live a very long life." Right. Like child. Funny, but The G. and The D. thought he was spot-on. Jerks.
So, in honor of you little Italian man, I am letting my inner child out this weekend. CAUSE I WANNA!
How I love thee, 'Bastian.