I look forward to hearing tales (and the name) of the lucky beast.

"It's amazing how much you can't see when a huge dog fills the car" was a chuckle-inducing line. As I noted before, I appreciate his knack for conversational informality.

At sleepover camp with the 6th graders (if that sounds like a horror movie title, the impression is accurate) this past week, one of the boys discovered an ENORMOUS centipede in the shower. After expressing considerable admiration over the creature, primarily for the benefit of the towel-clad child cowering in the corner of the stall, I gently coaxed the creepy crawler into a wastecan and released it outside some distance from the cabin. I somehow managed this task without the help of a "personal assistant."

I'd post this self-aggrandizing exploit on my own website, but somehow, centipedes don't garner the same misty-eyed, heart-wrenching sympathy as do dogs.

No sympathy for the bat, nor words of defense for your black leather-clad wordsmith? You make a pathetic teen wannabe gothy chick fangirl, dude! (To the relief of your spouse and children, I'd imagine).

Oh well, Gaiman's already selected his Fangirls of the Year.