People often ask me what's going on inside this cra-zy little noggin of mine. When I'm not in the mood to share the secrets of my little corner of the world with them, I tell them not to worry their pretty little heads about what's going on inside mine. But other times when I'm feeling more generous, I just tell them to listen to this song. Because its beginning, particularly the bit from 0:38 to 0:52, is exactly what it sounds like in my head on any given (or taken) day. That is, as the kidz may still be saying, the stuff. (Come to think of it, I don't even know if the kidz ever said "the stuff". Probably not. But now they will. Kidz from all around the globe come here to pick up on trends of my creation.)

Thus, filled to the rim with that stuff, there is no room in my own pretty little head for thoughts that pop up without notice or provocation, such as this gem that came to me out of the very wild and very blue yonder sometime last week: "Mr. Wiggles has left the auditorium!" I challenge you to not think it yourself, now, at least three times during the day — or to not say it aloud.

These are my gifts to you, on this frigid and invigorating Thursday morn'.

You're welcome.