Sometime in the middle of the night I woke with a scratchy throat and sloppy nose. I may have to call the house doctor. Ha! How long has it been since hotel's had house doctors. Or house detectives for that matter. I like those old-fashioned hotels where they had the funky door you would put your suit into and the hotel fairies would steam and press it and return it in the morning. I did that once and never saw the suit again. Seriously, I am not feeling well and I'm going to bed. Imagine how one feels when hours pass without a call from the President. The last time I spent the night in Washington D.C. I hung out with Dick Nixon. He kept asking me to pull his finger...Damn! he was tricky. I love big eastern cities. So many friendly ladies worried about my social life. They keep asking me, "Going out?" and "Looking for a date?"

This is a horrible blog and THIS time I'm not re-writing it. Deal with it.

Rob

PS: I am really sick. I went to the bar for a sip of something medicinal and this nice lady told me I was hot. I KNEW I had a fever.