Back to the Dangerous Writing basement after two weeks of the flu. Life complete again. Amazing pieces and discussions, not to mention two dirty Tallulah Bankhead jokes after someone likened my laryngitis whiskey voice to hers. My voice also got compared with Peppermint Patty's. Nora brought beer in two big jars like you'd use for iced tea or apple cider. Even though I didn't have any, I liked watching my fellow writers try to pour from those things and not spill on the sacred table. When it was my turn to read, I said, "This is the thing that comes after the thing that came six weeks ago," and everyone drank anyway. For an explanation of what the heck that means, go here. But only if you want to.