Blonde of the week was won by Morning.

Congratulations to Kol who reaches 42 today.

And congratulations to Mr Perrin who passed his parole hearing and will be out on Tuesday, which hopefully means no more diatribes from Lincoln Prison

Lots of abuse from French and Italian readers, but that’s to be expected, but if I threaten to counter attack they would probably just fuck off to find their white flags in record time. Apart from that it’s been a steady week in terms of post and e-mails, and Kimberley is back at work, and as predicted efficiency went down. So much so that I went out to Haydock park to see if I could get myself some blinkers. The clerk of the course asked me what was the name of my horse, and when I said they were for me, he looked at me as if I was mad, and that they didn’t do blinkers for humans. But that was nothing to the panic I caused in the stables, the horses must have seen me coming in my bright orange shirt and thought I was a new jockey. Never have I seen such speed from a whole stable full of horses. Thinking about it I can understand why. Can you imagine, you’re a horse (and yes some of you probably look that way) and you’re not overly impressed by having jockeys on your back anyway, but they’re not that heavy. Then you see me coming, it would be like, "Shit, look at the fucking size of him, he’ll break my fucking back – I’m off". Anyway, I digress, lets start the show.

I fail to recognise the correlation between intelligence and those of you who insist on writing in about rex. Let me make this very clear for those of you who aren’t exactly mr current affairs.

REX IS DEAD.

THE REX APPEAL HAS ENDED

THERE WILL BE NO MORE APPEALS ABOUT APPEALS OR ANYTHING TO DO WITH REX FROM THIS POINT FORWARD.

In fact the next letter that comes in about rex, the appeal or anything related shall be soaked in cyanide in laboratory conditions, sealed in shrink wrap and sent back to the originator.

Meanwhile David Greaves, from Halifax, West Yorkshire, writes, "What am I to do, I had only two hopes in life, and then Bob goes and dies, leaving me only one (no)." No accounting for taste then.

A Major Bottomly-Smythe from Glastonbury, Somerset, writes "I was very upset that vandals had destroyed the floral displays in Saltburn by the Sea. Glastonbury In Bloom would be more than happy to pay for two new baskets, alas next year now, for Saltburn. I hope every in bloom committee in the country will join us so next year Saltburn’s flower show will be bigger and better than ever." Don’t you even think about it. No fucking appeals, especially not for some flowers. However if you were the vandal, could you please contact me as I’d like some flower poisoning tips.

Yes people, I told you, it’s foreign correspondence time again, and first up this week is this offering from a Luis Cesar, from Sao Paulo in Brazil, "Sabe o que meio de "castigo"? Um infliction justo de recompensa manifestado por um agente apropriado. Personificado neste caso por um 'cunt de orrible... me! Sente-se e feche para cima, você fuck calvo grande. Eu nao gosto de partida meu Doug rural, e eu especialmente nao gosto de partida ele para qualquer coisa praias menos coqueteisél arenosas, e coquetel com chapéus pequenos de palha! Mostra-me como controlar um cigano selvagem de fucking e eu o mostrarei como controlar um criminoso desvairado de porco alimentação!" Don’t think I’ve not thunk that they may be taking the piss, but what can you do.

Meanwhile, someone from Gronigen, Holland has scrawled the following, "Zo bent u duidelijk de grote dick. De man op de zijde van ya is je ballen. Er zijn twee soorten ballen. Er zijn grote dappere ballen en er zijn kleine mincey faggot ballen. Indien ik een hond een benen werp, wil ik niet weten indien het goede of niet proeft. En indien u ooit mij whilst onderbreekt, die ik, loop ik je fucking jacobs van zal snijden is. Is u t van ain van deze planeet u, Vincent? Wie is gonna mok twee zwarte fellas, bezit pistolen, in een auto zat die waard minder dan je hemd is?" Did you understand a single word of what she just said, it all sounded Dutch to me.

Mr Perrin has signed off with this for his prison life "Thanks for the fish". It would appear his latest author of obsession is Douglas Adams.

Finally an appeal, over the last few weeks I’ve been short of ideas of who to abuse, so if you could write in with suggestions or perhaps a few rants then that would be great.

That's it for the letters for this week, BUT there will be more next week. BUT, only if you’re lucky.

A couple of items that caught my eye this week

Michael McCormick, 36, saw a 5-foot-long alligator threatening a woman and four children near an elementary school in Tavares, Fla. "I just pulled over, made a loop with rope and tossed it over him," he said, and told someone to call the police for help. When officers arrived, they ordered him to release the animal, since it's illegal to "possess" an alligator. He did so, and it ran into a pond. The police called the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission, which called a professional trapper to recapture the gator, and issued a $180 citation to McCormick. "People can't be taking this in their own hands," said a F&W spokeswoman, defending the ticket. But after a huge public outcry, officials reduced the fine to a warning, but the spokeswoman insisted that "people need to understand" that they cannot take action on their own, and must call for official help. - You see it’s the police all over the world that have no common sense, not just the ones here.

Ohio's Department of Job & Family Services has announced that two employees have resigned after a co-worker discovered them having sex in a cubicle. Account examiner Donald Young, 46, had worked for the agency for 20 years and was known as a "ladies man"; clerk Phyllis Bowersock, 45, had worked there for 26 years. J&FS Director Tom Hayes said 99 percent of his employees do a good job, but the other 1 percent "can make bad decisions faster than a kid with a bottle of tequila and a handgun." He added his "only regret is that these two clowns had a chance to resign before I had a chance to fire them." - I bet he wished he’d installed security cameras.

1. The Bible
2. Quotations from the works of Mao Tse Tung (aka little red book)
3. American Spelling Book - Noah webster
4. The Guinness Book of Records
5. World Almananac
6. The McGuffey Readers - William Holmes McGuffey
7. The Common Sense Book of baby and child care - Benjamin Spock
8. A Message to Garcia - Elbert Hubbard
9. In his stpes "What would Jesus do?" - Rev Charles Monroe Sheldon
10. Valley of the Dolls - Jacqueline Susann

Just a little more happening this week than last week’s half a dozen lines, and not all of it has been tip top, but there has been some inspired cheekiness, though the long term effects aren’t good. Squirrel wandered out of work to the Rising Sun (surprising some, who thought I was just another hum drum), where he met up with Kate, Kol, Steve, and the celebrating birthday boy Kev. They were joined by more people later, and somewhat unsurprisingly Kate’s words of I’m just having one, and Squirrel’s I’m not drinking both flew out of the window. The rest of the residents of Chez Didsbury were safely ensconced at home with little hope of movement, however by the time the Rising son was kicking out, rumours of XS were starting to circulate, and Squirrel, Kev and Kate got a taxi there, only for Kev and Kate to refuse to get out cos there was a queue. Undeterred by this Squirrel went in anyway and was joined by Hopalong. Things got a bit blurry as many pints of Stella and bottles of reef followed, and were shaken up by dancing, before heading to Abduls at kicking out time. They blagged sharing a taxi back with some bird from Cheadle who when they arrived back at Chez Didsbury got out and went in the house and proceeded to talk utter shit at high volume for the next hour before going home. Well at least it saved one of the residents doing it.

The next morning saw a gas safety engineer arrive while the residents were less than mr current affairs. While he was still there, Squirrel and G Man ventured into town, with Squirrel in one of the lariest moods ever witnessed, as he found words of abuse for nearly everyone they came into contact with. On arrival back at Chez Didsbury they found that the boiler had been condemned which left the house with no hot water. Hopalong went to the gym to get a shower, G Man went to meet Amanda in Fallowfield and Squirrel got ready to go out. Now the sneaky fucking Russian was going on a date, however with the lary mood he was in things were likely to get messy and being Squirrel he wasn’t going to disappoint. On his dates arrival (15 minutes late – not bad for a woman) his first words were "Have difficulties finding the place?" Things weren’t going particularly well, when Squirrel went to the bar and realised the woman next to him was his ex’s chief bridesmaid. Unable to keep his mouth shut he asked "What the fuck are you doing in Manchester, I thought you were quarantined in Leicester." He went to sit back down and a few minutes later the bridesmaid came over and started giving him shit, to which the standard reply was "fuck off". At which point she went to throw her drink over Squirrel, missed and covered his date. Squirrel did what any self respecting date would do and burst out laughing. At about this time Squirrel was under the impression that the Residents of Chez Didsbury and Tessa were meeting up to go to friends and family, and so headed home. He got there and was surprised to find that Hopalong and the Chemist had been too lazy to go , and were sat watching DVD’s. Meanwhile, Tessa had also pulled a no show, which left G Man and Ricky Organ out of control in a strange environment, and they both managed to get trolleyed. Ricky Organ, by all accounts left just after two and G Man at sweeping up time, whereupon he got to Fallowfield for a kebab and shared a taxi with two fare dodgers from Withington, however in their haste to get out of the taxi without chipping in they left their unopened pack of Mayfair, which G Man claimed as a trophy. They still sit untouched in the lounge of Chez Didsbury. When G Man got in Squirrel was still up, and questioned him as to the whereabouts of Ricky Organ. G Man was surprised that Ricky Organ had not got back yet, and it would appear that he was too pissed to negotiate the journey home in a timely manner and arrived back at some stage after everyone else had gone to bed.

Needless to say Sunday didn’t see Ricky Organ in the best shape and with Squirrel and the Chemist in danger of getting cobwebs, G Man and Hopalong went out to play pool and watch the hulk. Monday saw Ricky Organ out with Jayne, Tuesday saw G Man and Hopalong make an extended stop at the Parrswood. Wednesday saw the 5-a-side night, and the start of work on getting a new boiler. Thursday saw the completion of this work, and after nearly 6 days Chez Didsbury has hot water again, though the time without it has been less than tip top.

He noticed movement to his right again, and found the head hijacker coming past him to go into the cabin. He hadn't noticed him go the other way, and it struck him that despite what had gone on with passenger transfers it seemed as if the head hijacker was still in charge on this plane, which might suggest that the head hijacker was in overall control.

The intercom clicked on and he heard the head hijacker's voice come over the air. "Testing, there is no message at this time." The intercom clicked off and the head hijacker came out of the cabin.

He strained to look over his shoulder as it appeared that the head hijacker was waiting for someone, and sure enough he heard someone come through to the first class and say "Yes". At that the head hijacker's face set and he quickly turned and went back into the cabin.

From his seat he could hear voices, obviously at odds with each other, but try as he might he couldn't quite make out any words. The head hijacker stuck his head out of the door and motioned to another of the hijackers, who hurried up to the door of the cabin, where the head hijacker said something to him, before he headed off back towards the rear of the first class. Moments later the head hijacker's voice came over the intercom, with the same message as before, "Testing, there is no message at this time."

This time the head hijacker didn't emerge from the cabin, and after a short while the other hijacker came up and leant into the cabin and muttered something before heading back to his post.

The intercom clicked on again, and yet again the voice of the head hijacker was heard. "This is not a test. Now that the crew have conformed with my request, I am now addressing those of you who happen to reside in the front section of this aircraft. Those passengers in the rest of this aircraft cannot hear what I am about to say."

"If you look around you will see that there are quite a few more of my colleagues now standing in this section of this aircraft."

He heard mutterings, and as he looked around he could pick out three or four more hijackers, whereas all the time before he had only ever seen the head hijacker and one other at the most. The voice continued.

"If any attempt is made at making any noise to raise a signal to the rest of the aircraft, that person will be shot. This is no idle threat, I have no wish to kill anyone sat in the front section of this aircraft. In a few minutes everyone in this section will be leaving the aircraft. No one in the rear of the aircraft will know that you have left the aircraft, and the flight crew will not know either, as they are temporarily indisposed. In less than twenty minutes this aircraft will be taking off to head to it's original destination, and until it gets there no one will be any the wiser."

"If anyone attempts to escape during disembarkation they will be shot in the leg. I really do not want to harm any of you. If you have not guessed you are all required for something special, and my superiors would not be amused if you didn't all make it, and trust me you would not want to meet my superiors when they are in a bad mood."

His sense of dread heightened, he had felt that this was all part of a grander design regarding himself, and he hated it. At least he now knew that the head hijacker wasn't the overall head man, and wondered what kind of man would be in charge of this operation.

Squirrel (to random woman struggling with heavy bags at Piccadilly) – Do you want a hand with them?

Random Woman – Yes please

Squirrel starts clapping as wandering off.

Dr. Samuel A. Mudd was the physician who set the leg of Lincoln's assassin John Wilkes Booth...and whose shame created the expression for ignominy, "His name is Mudd."

The Ramses brand condom is named after the great pharaoh Ramses II who fathered over 160 children.

Charles Lindbergh took only four sandwiches with him on his famous transatlantic flight.

If life begins at 40, why bother with the other 39 years?

Monkey (n).

Vagina. "Does the monkey want a banana?" A toothless Gibbon

Bob, a middle-aged Canadian tourist on his first visit to Orlando, Florida, finds the red light district and enters a large brothel. The madam asks him to be seated and sends over a young lady to entertain him. They sit and talk, frolic a little, giggle a bit, drink a bit, and she sits on his lap. He whispers in her ear and she gasps and runs away! Seeing this, the madam sends over a more experienced lady to entertain the gentleman. They sit and talk, frolic a little, giggle a bit, drink a bit, and she sits on his lap. He whispers in her ear, and she too screams, "No!" and walks quickly away. The madam is surprised that this ordinary looking man has asked for something so outrageous that her two girls will have nothing to do with him. She decides that only her most experienced lady, Lola, will do. Lola has never said no, and it's not likely anything would surprise her. So the madam sends her over to Bob. The sit and talk, frolic a little, giggle a bit, drink a bit, and she sits on his lap. He whispers in her ear and she screams, "NO WAY, BUDDY!" and smacks him as hard as she can and leaves. Madam is by now absolutely intrigued, having seen nothing like this in all her years of operating a brothel. She hasn't done the bedroom work herself for a long time, but she's sure she has said yes to everything a man could possibly ask for. She just has to find out what this man wants that has made her girls so angry. Besides she sees a chance to teach her employees a lesson. So she goes over to Bob and says that she's the best in the house and is available. She sits and talks with him. They frolic, giggle, drink and then she sits in his lap. Bob leans forwards and whispers in her ear, "Can I pay in Canadian currency?"

On a country road, a speeder hit and killed a dog. The dog's owner stood nearby, a gun in his hand. The speeder said, "Looks as if I killed your dog." "Sure does." "I'm sorry. Was it a valuable dog?" "I wouldn't say that." "Well, suppose I gave you a hundred dollars. Would that be enough?" "Well, I don't know." "Two hundred dollars. That should do it." "Sounds good." The speeder reached into his pocket and came up with the money. Pressing it into the man's hand, he said, "I'm sorry I spoiled your plans to go hunting." "I wasn't going hunting. I was heading out to the woods to shoot that mangy dog."

Back in the swinging sixties, Michael Caine is holding a big showbiz party in his swanky new house. Everyone who's anyone is there - top stars from the worlds of movies, music, fashion and art. There's the best wines that money can buy, oysters, champagne, Lennon and McCartney are helping themselves at the bar, Jim Morrison and his band are sitting on the couch singing "Light My Fire" and over in the corner, George Peppard's getting very pally with Sophia Loren. All's going really well until Jim Morrison decides he's bored out of his skull and wants to go home for an early night curled up with a good book. "Oi Jim," objects Michael Caine, "party's just got started. How's about I get one of the ladies to take you into the spare bedroom for a bit of the ol' how's yer father?" "Fair play," nods Jim (well that's not his exact words, but you get the gist), "as long as she does the rest of the band too." "Not a problem, Jim," smiles Michael as he pulls a young dolly bird in close and whispers some instruction in her ear. Half an hour later, the young lass is just wiping her chin when in walks Ringo Starr. "Alright luv?" he drones, "don't suppose you fancy extending that service to me, do you?" The young lass thinks about this for a second, then says "What the hell!" and proceeds to unzip Ringo's fly and get to work. Ringo's having a grand time, until, mere moments before the end, the door flies open and Michael Caine bursts in. He grabs the woman by her hair and slaps her hard across the face! "Wh-what was that for?" she whimpers. "I told you," Caine snarls "You were only supposed to blow the bloody Doors off ..."

Mr. and Mrs. Potato had eyes for each other, got married and had a little sweet potato, they named 'Yam'. Of course, they wanted the best for Yam. When it was time, they told her about the facts of life. They warned her about going out and getting half-baked, so she wouldn't get accidentally mashed, and get a bad name for herself like 'Hot Potato', and end up with a bunch of Tater Tots. Yam said not to worry; no Spud would get her into the sack and make a rotten potato out of her! But on the other hand, she wouldn't stay home and become a Couch Potato, either. She would get plenty of exercise so as not to be skinny like her Shoestring cousins. When she went off to Europe, Mr. & Mrs. Potato told Yam to watch out for the Hard Boiled guys from Ireland and the greasy guys from France called the French Fries.  When she went out west, the warned her to watch out for the Indians so she wouldn't get scalloped. Yam said she would stay on the straight and narrow and wouldn't associate with those high class Yukon Golds. Mr. & Mrs. Potato sent Yam to Idaho P.U. [Potato University] so that when she graduated she'd really be in the Chips. But in spite of all they did for her, one day Yam came home and announced she was going to marry Des Lynam.  Des Lynam!  Mr. and Mrs. Potato were very upset.  They told Yam she couldn't possibly marry Des Lynam, because he's just a COMMON TATER!

This guy goes to a psychiatrist. The doctor shows him an inkblot and asks him what it looks like. "A naked woman." He shows him another inkblot and asks him the same question. "A naked woman on a bed." "You're a sick pervert!" the psychiatrist exclaims. "I'm not the pervert. You keep showing me all these filthy pictures!"

When Mozart passed away, he was buried in a churchyard. A couple days later, the town drunk was walking through the cemetery and heard some strange noise coming from the area where Mozart was buried. Terrified, the drunk ran and got the town magistrate to come and listen to it. When the magistrate arrived, he bent his ear to the grave, listened for a moment, and said, "Ah, yes, that's Mozart's Ninth Symphony, being played backwards." He listened a while longer, and said, "There's the Eighth Symphony, and it's backwards, too. Most puzzling." So the magistrate kept listening; "There's the Seventh... the Sixth... the Fifth..." Suddenly the realization of what was happening dawned on the magistrate; he stood up and announced to the crowd that had gathered in the cemetery, "My fellow citizens, there's nothing to worry about. It's just Mozart decomposing."

A man has been in business for many, many years and the business is going down the drain. He is seriously contemplating suicide and he doesn't know what to do. He goes to the Rabbi to seek his advice. He tells the Rabbi about all of his problems in the business and asks the Rabbi what he should do. The Rabbi says "Take a beach chair and a Bible and put them in your car and drive down to the edge of the ocean. Go to the water's edge. Take the beach chair out of the car, sit on it and take the Bible out and open it up. The wind will riffle the pages for a while and eventually the Bible will stay open at a particular page. Read the first words your eyes fall on and they will tell you what to do." The man does as he is told. He places a beach chair and a Bible in his car and drives down to the beach. He sits on the chair at the water's edge and opens the bible. The wind riffles the pages of the Bible and then stops at a particular page. He looks down at the Bible and his eyes fall on words which tell him what he has to do. Three months later the man and his family come back to see the Rabbi. The man is wearing a $1,000 Italian suit, the wife is all decked out with a full-length mink coat and the child is dressed in beautiful silk. The man hands the Rabbi a thick envelope full of money and tells him that he wants to donate this money to the synagogue in order to thank the Rabbi for his wonderful advice. The Rabbi is delighted. He recognizes the man and asks him what words in the Bible brought this good fortune to him. The man replies: "Chapter 11".

A little turtle begins to climb a tree slowly. After long hours of effort, he reaches the top, jumps into the air waving his front legs, until he plunges into the ground with a thud. After recovering his consciousness, he starts to climb the tree again, jumps again, and knocks the ground heavily again. The little turtle tried again and again, climbing again after each drop. Meanwhile, a couple of birds were sitting at the edge of a branch, looking the turtle with pain. Suddenly the female bird says to the male, "Dear, I think it's time to tell our little turtle he is adopted."

A fine funeral was ordered for a woman who had henpecked her husband, driven her kids half nuts, scrapped with the neighbors at the slightest opportunity, and even made neurotics of the cat and dog with her explosive temper. As the casket was lowered into the grave, a violent thunderstorm broke, and the pastor's benediction was drowned out by a blinding flash of lightning, followed by terrific thunder. "Well," commented one of the mourners, "sounds like she got where she was going."

A woman went to her boy-friends parents house for Christmas Dinner. This was her first time meeting the family and she is very nervous. They all sit down and begin eating a fine meal. The woman began to feel a little discomfort. Thanks to her nervousness and the broccoli casserole. The gas pains were almost making her eyes water. Left with no other choice, she decided to relieve herself a bit and let out a dainty fart. It wasn’t loud, but everyone at the table heard the poof. Before she even had a chance to be embarrassed, her boy-friends father looked over at the dog that had been snoozing under the woman's chair, and said in a rather stern voice, "Skippy!" The woman thought, this is great and a big smile came across her face. A couple of minutes later, she was beginning to feel the pain again. This time she didn't even hesitate. She let a much louder and longer "rrriiippp" The father again looked at the dog and yelled, "Dammit Skippy!". Once again the woman smiled and thought "Yes!" A few minutes later the woman had to let another one rip. This time she didn't even think about it. She let rip a fart that rivaled a train whistle blowing. Once again, the father looked at the dog with disgust and yelled, "Dammit Skippy, get away from her, before she shits on you!"

I really ought to know what’s going on but overall details are sketchy. Hopalong is off to see Mary so is out of the frame for the weekend. It’s Kol’s birthday Friday night, so Squirrel, Kate and some of the other usual suspects will be out in town, though nothing’s been finalised. G Man will probably be meeting Amanda, likewise Ricky Organ is likely to be meeting Jayne. The only remaining question is whether the Chemist actually leaves the house. See y'all next week.

Standing a few miles to the south west of Leicester, just off junction 21a of the M1 is the village of Kirby Muxloe. To the north east of the village standing back from the road is the building called Kirby Muxloe Castle.

Although it is in the style of a ruined castle, and the fact that it has a moat, and a drawbridge and gatehouse, it is in fact not a castle at all. It is actually a fortified manor house, built to its current state in the late 15^th century.

There was a manor house on the site with a gateway, drawbridge, and smaller moat, dating back to the 13^th century, at which stage the manor and the land were owned by Sir William Herle. His daughter married Sir Ralph Hastings, and when Sir William Herle’s son, Sir Robert Herle died the estate passed to the son of Sir Ralph Hastings, also Sir Ralph. Once in the Hastings family it was passed down until it became the property of Sir William Hastings in 1455, as a close friend and ally of King Edward IV, he was made Lord Hastings of Hastings in 1461, and ten years later was given license to fortify his manor houses in Leicestershire (which included Ashby de la Zouch).

Sir William Hastings started work on the house by levelling the original house in 1480, with the exception of the hall and north wing, which were incorporated into the new structure. A new grand structure was planned and work started. The moat was widened so that it was between 45 and 70 feet in width, and the land in the middle was a rectangle of 175 feet from north west to south east, and 245 feet from north east to south west. There was a wall around the compound with square towers at the four corners, and a gatehouse in the middle of the north west side. A portcullis was put in the gatehouse, and the grand west (or Hastings) tower was built higher than the rest. This left a courtyard of 100 feet by 160 feet.

The moat was supplied by diverting the flow from nearby brook and little brook, using a series of dams, sluices and stoppers, to get the water to flow into the moat, and a system of being able to drain it if required.

However, with the death of Edward IV, came Sir William’s demise, and he was executed for treason by the future Richard III in the summer of 1483. Work on the manor stopped, only to restart temporarily later in the year, but it came to a complete halt in December 1484 in the state it is found today.

The grounds stayed in the Hastings family until about 1630, when they came into the hands of Sir Robert Banaster, at some point they came into the ownership of the Winstanley family, and in 1911 Major Richard Winstanley placed the building under the guardianship of the commissioners of works. They went about the repair and clearing of the grounds and moat, and by 1930 had completed the task. They repaired the dangerous west tower, by using similar brick to the original, and they found the foundations of the original ancient manor house, which they left exposed for viewing.

The property today is run by English Heritage, and is open for visits at various times throughout the year.

Here’s this week’s random review

It has to be said that there hasn’t been anything leap out and grab my attention this week, nothing has been screaming hey you, review me, not even Sid Waddell’s inane ramblings in the darts warrant a review, so basically, no review. Try again next week.

First the answer from last week. The 39 steps as referred to in John Buchan’s book (and the subsequent films) are in the clock tower of Big Ben. The first correct entry out of the hat was a Benjamin Large from Handley in the West Midlands, who wins the copy of the book the 39 steps.

For this week’s competition, all I want is, If a person was forty today, how many days have they been on earth for? Answers to the normal addresses through the normal channels, and the first correct answer drawn out of the Surerandomality hat next Wednesday afternoon, wins a bottle of 20/20.

TOTAL = 20

CUMMILATIVE TOTAL = 541