Reply to "The Real Mrs. Plop"

Everyone calls me Daddy, don't feel funny about it.

So how does it feel to be on the tip of EVERYONE'S tounge? (I bet you haven't felt that since Plato's retreat! -just kidding.)
Last night at Cabaret Magique the room was buzzing with rumors that you were there. It was hysterical. You'd think Osama Bin Laden was in the room the way people (including me) were acting. Pointing at strangers and asking, "Do you think that's her?"

And pay no attention to a certain "Mrs. Messy You Know Who". She's a bit fuzzy until she does a little coke. Then she's fine. (Believe me, she does not know Don Ho). Just don't invite her out to your summer retreat. She'll never leave. And if she does, it will be with half of your belongings. Just a warning.
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