All Things Must Come To An End

And now the end is near and so I face the final curtain. My friends, I’ll say it clear – I’ll state my case of which I’m certain. I’ve lived a life that’s full. I’ve travelled each and every highway, but more – much more than this – I did it my way…

And so I shall continue doing things my way. But before everyone gets upset, don’t worry – this isn’t the end of my blog. This a farewell to two people that have been in my life for as long as I can remember – Mr Kix Brooks and Mr Ronnie Dunn.

These two guys have been on the scene for the last twenty years and play a major role in my BEST. WEEKEND. EVER. But these two legends of the country music scene have decided to go their separate ways and so I must pay homage to them and their career in the only way I know how – sarcasm and a gun. (minus the gun – but points to whoever knows where that line came from!)

And so I must start The Long Goodbye to a couple of Johnny Cash Junkies. My Heart Is Lost To You, but I’ve Got A Lot To Learn while I wait for My Next Broken Heart. I’m Proud Of The House We Built with Caroline and My Maria and of course, who can forget the help from Texas and Norma Jean?

I’m celebrating now with a bottle of Brand New Whiskey, a Cool Drink of Water and of course, there will be Tequila, but I also know that I May Never Get Over You. No, that’s not true – I Can’t Get Over You. I’ve probably gone Too Far This Time, but Why Would I Say Goodbye when You’ll Always Be Loved By Me.

If That’s The Way You Want It that’s fine with me but just so you understand My Heart Is Lost To You. How Long Gone? I don’t know, but I know it will take More Than A Margarita to make it better. Perhaps if the DJ would Play Something Country we could See Jane Dance to the Redneck Rhythm And Blues. She Used To Be Mine but She Was Born To Run and she’s been Way Gone for a while now, just South of Santa Fe.

Brooks & Dunn know that You Can’t Take The Honky Tonk Out Of The Girl but everyone knows that Mama Don’t Get Dressed Up For Nothing so We’ll Burn That Bridge When We Get There. They also know that When She’s Gone, She’s Gone and I’m Heartbroke Out Of My Mind knowing that this is the end.

Now, I don’t want to start a Holy War but God Must Be Busy doing other stuff to allow these two to go separate ways, but It’s Getting Better All The Time. After few days in Cowboy Town, I took a visit to Tequila Town, because everyone knows that She Likes To Get Out Of Town. I know that Our Time Is Coming, but I can only stand One Heartache At A Time.

I’d particularly love to hear Kix Brooks say that She’s About As Lonely As I’m Going To Let Her when he talks about me, and I’d especially like to hear Lucy, I’m Still In Love With You and that he’s going to shower me in Silver And Gold – but that would happen Only In America to an American Dreamer.

If someone ever asks me about the break up of Brooks and Dunn, I will Deny, Deny, Deny, but I’m not afraid of lying because Good Girls Go To Heaven – That’s The Trouble With Angels, we’re always Drunk On Love.

I’m happy that they’re splitting on their terms and not in the midst of in-fighting and public arguments – That Ain’t No Way To Go. Real legends dance all the way to the grave, dancing the Boot Scootin’ Boogie in and out of the light of the Neon Moon. But that’s all Whiskey Under The Bridge now since I’m Going Under, Gettin’ Over You.

By now I suppose you’re wondering a lot about my mental state, but don’t worry, it’s a Good Day To Be Me! I may not be a Hard Workin’ Man and I admit I’m All Out Of Love but I just Can’t Stop My Heart. This is a Chance Of A Lifetime and if this helps me find a Good Cowboy, this will be the Last Thing I Do.

I’m riding the Hurt Train down the Red Dirt Road, with a lot of Husbands and Wives. Til My Dyin’ Day I won’t Believe that Brooks & Dunn are breaking up. Perhaps if they Put A Girl In It, things would be okay? That’s What It’s All About, isn’t it? Does one of you feel Unloved? I can’t help but be jealous of Ronnie Dunn, because He’s Got You, Kix.

Just remember that I Love You More! I can turn you into a Brand New Man and we can both Go West. But even if you decided to go by yourself, remember that My Love Will Follow You.

I know You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone, but Texas Women Don’t Stay Lonely Long. Please believe that this Ain’t Nothing ‘Bout You, this is all me.

I’m trying not to tear up as I write The Long Goodbye, because everyone knows that Cowgirls Don’t Cry. It’s Just Another Neon Night in Memory Town but I’ll Never Forgive My Heart.

Kix Brooks, You’re My Angel – and that’s the Honky Tonk Truth.

Missing You,

Love…Little Miss Honky Tonk xxx

Please Speak My Language

It has come to my attention through various sources that  for a few days a month, I speak a completely different language to everyone else – well it’s still English, but what I say and what I mean seems to getting mixed up. So I thought that for the sake of every person who exists within 100 metres of me during those few “fun-filled” days, I would create an English to PMS-ese. It may also help other people whose friends, family and colleagues also suffer from this monthly language curse. (Bet the apple doesn’t look so hot NOW does it, Eve?)

So, let’s start with the basics…

• Gosh I use some chocolate right now = GIMME GIMME GIMME!!!!!!!
• I’m not having a good day = Leave me alone
• I’m having a bad day = Leave me alone and leave me quickly
• I hate everyone = Get the hell away from me before I pick up a brick and shove it up your nose sideways
• Please leave me alone = see “I hate everyone”
• I’m busy for the next hour = If your finger even contemplates moving towards dialing my extension, I will rip your fingers off…and shove them up your nose sideways.
• That’s interesting = Seriously? Why are you telling me this? I don’t care! I. DO. NOT. CARE. I never have. I never will. Turn around and leave, Monkey Butt and no one will get hurt.
• I’m sorry, I’m a little emotional today = This is totally your fault and can only only end in tears – probably yours, caused by shoving some random body part up your nose sideways.
• I have PMS = I have PMS and I can and will use it as a weapon against you. I can kill you and blame it on having a mental disease or defect. You do not want to push me.
• Nothing will make me feel better = GIMME CHOCOLATE!!! GIMME GIMME GIMME!!!!!
• No, I don’t want chocolate = Don’t listen to me! GIMME GIMME GIMME!!! And donuts! And ice-cream!
• It’s okay, I’m not mad at you = I have a knife strapped to my ankle. If my chocolate is not returned, there will be a blood bath.

As you can see, there are a great many differences between what I say and what I mean. And unfortunately for you, the meanings can change from month to month. To make it easier on everyone, let’s just assume that I’m speaking PMS-ese everyday of the week. Although there would be a few downsides to this, I can see one massive positive…

CHOCOLATE EVERY DAY!!!!!!

What’s The Point Of It All?

Just picture me saying that with a woe-is-me look on face while swooning 18th century-like on a strategically placed chaise lounge and you’ve got a pretty good idea of how upset I am at the current line up of guest appearances at the 2009 Melbourne Armageddon. Okay, maybe not that dramatic but still fairly put out. Not that I’m planning on cancelling my trip, but could the organisers made the expo any more less worthy of my time?

Now, before you tell me that I don’t know what I’m talking about, let me point out that this will not be my first Armageddon. I may not know the entire history of it, but I’m not a complete novice. I’m also not your typical nerd. I don’t watch anime. I don’t play World of Warcraft. And I have no idea who invented Pokemon (or even what drugs they were on at the time).

But…unlike a large percentage of nerds, I have a savings account with disposable income. And I’m not shy about spending money if I really really really want something. Why else would I have bought plane tickets to an event before the guest list was announced? Now, however, I’m not so sure that was a good idea.

Last year’s Armageddon seemed to have something for everyone. I got to meet a Ghostbusterand got a photo with a Storm Trooper. Heck, I even got a hug from the Greatest American Hero!

So you can imagine how excited I was when they announced the date of the 2009 Melbourne Armageddon. Remembering the calibre of guest the previous year, and the fact that I saw a poster advertising one of the Dr Who’s making an appearance, who can blame me for a little squeal of delight?

And then…silence. I looked through the entire list of guests, from the TV and movie stars to the cartoonists and comics and I’m sorry to say I don’t think it’s possible for me to care less about a bunch of people than I do about that list.

If you’re an old-school sci-fi-er like me, there’s no one to get excited about. Half the guests are from freaking Star Gate, and let’s face it Star Gate ain’t the be all and end all of the sci-fi universe. It starred MacGyver for God’s sake! After one episode you can clearly see that it’s a rip off of Sliders. And Twilight stars? Seriously? Am I twelve?

Give me Star Trek any day! Hell, I’ll even take someone from Police Academy. Oh that’s right, Michael Winslow is only going to the New Zealand expos. Pull your finger out organisers! Trying to appeaseme with Seth Green isn’t going to work.

At least bring in some international wrestling talent. I got Sting last year. This I have…actually I have no clue who any of them are. I’m not sure if I should be excited or not. Perhaps someone could let me know?

As it stands I have less than four months until I’m due to fly to Melbourne for what seems to be the most boring Armageddon Expo in living memory. But it doesn’t matter too much…if all else fails I’ve still got Burke Street!

You make Forrest Gump look like a genius

I swear the world is getting dumber by the minute (and as I typed that, I realised I had two spelling mistakes – d’oh!). Everyone knows the basic stuff, but there are some SERIOUS gaps in people’s general knowledge. I don’t care if you don’t know how to change a tire, but not knowing that Alex’s profession in Flashdance was a welder? I’m sorry, in my world you’d be a human sacrifice for the greater good.

You could be the most intelligent person in the world, but if you seriously think that Grease 2 is about Sandy and Danny’s children? GONE. Ditto, if you don’t know who Luke’s father is.

I know it may sound egotistical, but I’m damn smart. Thanks to my parents and my education, I have a pretty good general knowledge base. I like to think that others my age have a similar base, but alas I know that this is often not true. And this is proved over and over again by television quiz shows.

I would like to think that any Australian over the age of five would know that Blinky Bill is a koala – and not have to use all three lifelines to figure that out. I would also like to think that everybody knows that the moon is bigger than an elephant. Sadly, I know that not everyone knows this.

So, in order to start educating society to my level of general knowledge, allow me to list a few facts that I think everyone should know:

• Even though John Wayne’s nickname was The Duke, he was not a member of any Royal family. And yes, his real name is Marion.
• The band AC/DC was named after the electrical currents – not the other way round.
• Michael Jackson is black.
• The capital city of the Australia is Canberra, not Sydney or Melbourne.
• New Zealand is not a state of Australia.
• American Pie is about Buddy Holly’s plane crash. In which he died, hence “the day the music died”.
• Bart Simpson is voiced by a woman.
• In no Star Trek episode or movie, does anyone use the phrase “Beam me up, Scotty”.
• Anakin is Darth Vadar.
• The sinking of the Titanic really happened. People really died. Jack Dawson did not. He does not exist. Nor does Rose or the Heart of the Ocean.
• The Sound of Music is based around a real family. They did not, however, sing and dance their way away from the Nazis.
• Likewise, World War II was not accurately portrayed in Hogan’s Heroes, nor is M*A*S*H a good indication of the Korean War. However, in saying that, these wars did exist. They were not made up just for television. Neither was Vietnam, World War I or the Boer War.
• The “archive” footage from Forrest Gump is fake. He never met John Lennon or mooned the president. He is a made up character. The footage was doctored. Yes, I know it looks real, but it’s not. It’s fake. Trust me.
• The moonlanding was not fake.
• Elvis really is dead. Marilyn Munroe really is dead. Hitler really is dead. These people are not living under assumed names on a Pacific Island. They are dead. Just because you believe the whole “tunnel under the bunker” myth, does not make it true.

Well, that’s a pretty good start I think. Fifteen points of general knowledge that every person over the age of ten should know. I know I may have shattered a few beliefs with these facts, but I do it for good reason – I like to be able to converse with people at the certain level of intelligence.

If any of these points have caused you to rethink your general knowledge, I’m afraid I’ll just be wasting my time speaking to you. Now run along and watch the monkeys play with rocks – you’ll probably learn something.

Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows everywhere

It’s probably very obvious by reading a few of my posts that I’m a very sarcastic, negative person. But it the spirit of fairness (ie the other side of my personality) I’ve decided to talk about happy, smiley things this time.

I know everyone has hidden secret loves that no matter what mood they are in, will instantly draw a smile – and not in an evil way! So, without further ado, let me announce Lulu’s List of Happy Thoughts (the ones that you have to think of to make Tinkerbell’s fairy dust work):

1. A snuggle from my kitty (until my allergies kick and and then it can get the heck away from me).

 2. Eddie Guerrero’s smile. You know – the one that he used to get just after he’d successfully played possum and his opponent just realised what was happening but it was too late because Eddie had already won the match and the ref hadn’t seen a thing. Yep, that’s the one!

3. Someone higher in the food chain agreeing with me. Everyone likes getting a pat on the back and if it comes from higher up, it’s even better.

4. Ice cream that’s just melted enough that you can swirl it around with a spoon, but that can still give you a brain freeze if you eat it too quickly.

5. Finding forgotten money in purses or jackets that I haven’t used for ages. Especially when you weren’t the last person who used it. More fool them for not checking the pockets.

6. Having my hair sit exactly how I want it to, without having to spend half an hour pinning it in place.

7. Wearing a new pair of shoes and not having them rub or cause blisters.

8. Being the only person in the office not coughing and spluttering after an outbreak of the flu.

9. A really good head massage or just someone else brush my hair for a while.

And probably one of the most embarrassing happy thoughts for a twenty-five year old:

10. John Farnham songs. Yes, I said it. I can’t maintain a frown when little Johnny Farnham is singing. Any song from Sadie to that duet with Human Nature, will make me smile involuntarily. It’s even worse since I saw him in concert a few years ago. I’ll actually catch myself singing along, loud enough that people can actually hear me!

On a scale of one to ten, these aren’t such a bad list. Most of them are free or relatively inexpensive, which is much better because I’ve always been told that money can’t buy happiness.

Mind you…that’s one theory I’d love to test. I’m sure that’ll make me happy!

Never Gonna Give You Up

Before I begin, I’d like to thank all those YouTube posters that have made this post possible. I’d especially like to thank Rick Astley, for without him my thoughts would never have come together and produce this following masterpiece of literature. Oops, wrong link – try this one!

Everyone who knows me, will know that I like watching TV. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen it or the fact that 99.9% of the world thinks it’s rubbish – I will watch it. This includes – but is not limited to – Law & Order reruns, 80s cartoons, movies from the 50s and daytime soap operas. I will watch them.

I will also take great delight in passing on any and all the clips on YouTube that I find amusing…or disturbing or just plain wrong. I don’t know what it is about these clips that I love, but I have an overwhelming need to pass them on. But please understand that I don’t just find the bad clips. I also like watching and rewatching the good, goose-bumping clips like ones with amazing singers, talented dancers, and ones that do a little of both. My apologies, wrong link. This is the correct link with amazing singers and talented dancers.

I’m sorry. That was mean. Let me make it up to you here. And here. There, did that make it better?

Anyway, all this linking got me thinking about Rickrolling. More specifically, what is it that makes it a Rickroll? Is it the presence of Mr Rick Astley belting out Never Gonna Give You Up or is it the deception used to get there? For example, if I told you this link took you to Rick Astley, would still be classed as a Rickroll, even if it didn’t taken you to Mr Astley?

The basic principle of a Rickroll is to deceive someone into clicking on a link that takes them to Never Gonna Give You Up. But what is it called if it takes you somewhere else? If I tell you that the following link takes you to Achmed the Dead Terrorist, but it really takes you here, how can it be called Rickrolling? There’s no Rick involved! The concept is the same, but the materials are different. Would it be called Billyrolling? Or quite possibly Monkee-Rolling?

Whatever it’s called, I don’t think it could ever compare to some of the nasty links that I have sent people over the years. And for that, I would sincerely like to apologise. If I have sent you links in the past that have taken you to places you didn’t want to go, I’m sorry. And show just how sorry I am, please follow this link.

My Tongue Hurts From Biting It

Someone once told me that the reason you have a sore throat is because you’re holding back something you really want to say. Well, since I woke up this morning with a sore throat, I thought this might be the perfect opportunity to test out this theory.

Now, fair warning. I have been storing some of this stuff up for YEARS!! Please don’t this personally, this is all for science and the advancement of the medical community.

I DON’T CARE. Seriously. I don’t care. Dump him, don’t dump him. I told you what I thought and you still went out with him so please don’t come crying to me when he’s broken your heart for the third time this month. I WILL NOT CARE.

I will also not care about the latest disagreement between you and your mother/father/sibling/second cousin’s dog groomer. Unless they said something negative about me, I will continue singing along to Brittany Spears in my head and tune your voice out. I may look interested, but that’s just my expression while I’m trying to hit that high note in my head.

I hate your stories of the cute things your children do. Tell me once, I’ll smile politely. Tell me twice, I’ll look bored. Tell me thrice and I’ll start avoiding you and “missing” your phone calls. I get it. You think your child is cute and everything in the world revolves it. That may be true in your world, but not in mine. In my world, your child is a pooping, screaming germ factory.

I also don’t find it cute or funny to listen to your stories of berating workers for not doing their jobs to your high standard. Especially if I know them. Telling me my friend is lazy and should be unemployed does not make me want to help you do your job. In fact, I will go out of my way just to look busy so you can’t ask me for help.

I am not your personal slave. I will not pick up after you, bring you food or transport you anywhere unless I choose to. A lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine. If I say I don’t want to do something, grow a brain and figure out how to to it without me.

Which reminds me, if I say no, accept it. Badgering me, belittling my decisions and generally ignoring my feelings because I don’t agree with your overall master plan, will not get me to change my mind. If I don’t want to go out, I will not be going out. If I say I will not go into that club, accept that if you do enter that club, I will be leaving.

And yes, I do have interesting tastes in music and hobbies. If you can’t say anything nice about them, SHUT THE HELL UP. I don’t question your intelligence about listening to hard rock while wearing your pants around your knees, so leave my country rock, pro-wrestling weekends alone. Yes, I know it’s fake, but…I don’t care. There is no need to point out the amount of steroids they use every single time.

Oh yeah, and seriously? Holding a grudge for more than five years? Get over it. If it happened in high school, chance are you are the only one who still cares about it. You can take it for sure that I won’t. Especially if I didn’t even know you when it happened and I don’t even know the other people involved.

I am also not responsible for every miserable thing that has happened. If I wasn’t there, it’s not my fault. If someone else screwed up, it’s not my fault. If you screwed up, it’s not my fault. And not only that, I either can’t help you or I don’t want to. Chances are it’s option B.

Phew…that was a lot of pent up hostility. But, considering I have been storing this up since I was about 8, I think that 600 words isn’t that bad. God knows I couldn’t have gone on for about a thousand with I’d really thought about it.

Actually, now that I do think about…why didn’t I ever get my own violin? My brother and sister both got their own full size violin and I had to settle for a hand me down. Same with a bike. In 25 years, I have never own a bike that was fully and completely mine. Why was that parents? Why did I have to have hand me downs and the others got everything new? Huh? Why was that?!?!?

Okay, okay…I’m backing away from the keyboard now. And surprisingly, my throat isn’t sore anymore. Perhaps my friend was right, but just in case, let me leave you with one final thought…I DON’T CARE and I now have proof that it’s good for me.

Gimme Gimme Gimme

Some anonymous person once said “Money can’t buy happiness.” Well, thanks to our wonderful Federal Government I hope to prove them wrong.

With the proposed payment of $950 to most of the Australian tax payers (yay!), I’ve been wondering if I should follow the government’s recommendation of spend spend spend!!! or be a good girl and save it for a rainy day.

Yeah, right! Like there was really any other option. I’m blowing that sucker on junk that months from now I’ll find buried in my room and wonder what the heck I was thinking when I bought that.

Now I may have to use a little bit more than my payment to really make me happy, but for now, settle back and bask in glory of  what will be my new toys.

The complete series of Star Trek: Voyager. I already have the first three, so really, I’ll just be buying the last four.

Normally it would take me about six months to buy these, because I don’t like draining my “fun fund”.

You better believe once that payment clears my account, I’ll be on Ebay faster than you can say Engage!

I have to admit that most of my payment will be blow on entertainment items. These, however, are not just restricted to DVDs or videos. I will also be buying Lego. Lots of Lego. About 5000 pieces of Lego.

The 5000+ piece Death Star Lego set. I want this. I will have this. This is not an optional extra.

And I will recreate the scene between Luke and Darth Vader – complete with Lego Light Sabers.

Oh yes, it will be done. And then the 41cm globe will hang from my ceiling as the first piece in my Star Wars diorama.

And if you think I’ll going to stop there, you’d be wrong. Dead wrong. I also want (and will get some day) my own Millenium Falcon.

It comes with it’s own Chewie Lego man! How could you not want that? Seriously? How could you not?

 

 

 

 

But none of this is for free. I need my Federal Government payment so I can create my own happy world. And I need to create it soon, before my room is taken over by my collection of Mills & Boon books.

If I’m to give my Star Wars and Star Trek obsessions a fighting chance, they need to start growing before my book army reaches 600 soldiers. Once it reaches these sort of numbers no one is safe. My Fabio book covers will start reproducing and soon it will create a super army of romance novels.

So please, any opposition politicians out there. If, on the off chance that you read this, don’t hold up my payment by stalling the vote in the Senate.

The lives of Chewie, Luke and little Naomi Wildman depend on it!

I’m a low-down, dirty cheater

And by cheating, I don’t mean a little flirty conversation – I’m talking full-on cheating. As anyone who has spoken to me since December will know, I bought myself a Wii for Christmas. As part of my present, I also treated myself to the Wii version of Smackdown vs Raw 2009.

And this, unfortunately, is where I started feeling like a dirty cheater. The problem is, is that this game is forcing me to cheat, so is it still cheating if your forced into it?

I am two wrestling matches away from becoming the Intercontinental Champion. I have fought and won against Chuck Palumbo, William Regal, CM Punk and JBL, but now, my or rather Hardcore Holley’s career has stalled. My opponent for the number 1 contender spot is locked, and I can only unlock him if I enter the cheat codes.

Now I admit I have cheated before. I cheated in Monkey Island 4. I cheated in Civilisation. I even cheated in Warcraft. But the difference between what I did in the past and what I’m being forced to do now, is that I tried it the straight way and then I cheated.

Without the codes I can’t continue my career. Much like most of the WWE mid-carders, I am stuck in limbo, never getting top billing, filling in time before the real matches start. I can’t go back either, if I quit I’ll have to start over with someone else.

Now is this really what we want to be teaching the next generation? To get ahead, you have to lie and cheat and steal? True, it worked for Eddie and Chavo, but not everyone wants to be a dirty, disgusting, bottom-feeding, trash bag ho, do they?

I want to win my title fair and square, but to do that I must cheat. If I don’t cheat before I start the match, I won’t win. But if I cheat during the match, I get disqualified. It’s a lose-lose situation.

But my dilemma – is it cheating when you’re forced to do it for the greater good? (The good being me as the Intercontinental Champion.) And once I get this title, does the cheating stop there? No, it continues up the line of Championships. Winning the IC, means I can challenge for the ECW Title, which means more cheating codes are needed to unlock more features.

With a few more codes, I can become KING (or queen) OF THE RING!! Do I listen to my morals and just start over with a different character, never to reach my full potential? Or do I just start with a few little codes - nothing serious –  just enough to have fun?

You know what? After looking at all the cheating codes that are available to the public, I think I’ve made up my mind. Cheating is fine. Cheating gets you Championship Belts. Cheating gets you extra shiny outfits. But most importantly, cheating gets Ric Flair back in the ring!

I Swear On Lizard Guts and Fish Bones…

…that this year’s list of resolutions will not be broken, unless I decide that they no longer apply to my situation and then, screw ‘em, they’re gone! Aside from the usual promises of weight loss and money savings, I’m going to add a few extra special resolutions for 2009:

1. I will not play my Wii for more than an hour a day. Except if I’m playing Smackdown V Raw, in which case, I will not give in until D-Generation X are World Tag Team Champions again.
2. I will not buy another pair of shoes unless I already own at least two outfits that I can wear with them.
3. I will not buy an outfit (unless it’s for a really special occasion) that I don’t already have shoes for.
4. I will not get anything pierced or inked until at least June.
5. I will find that mouse skeleton in the back of my wardrobe or possibly under my bed.
6. I will cut back my Mills & Boon collection to 500 books. However, if there is a series of 15 books that are all related, that only counts as one book.
7. I will think about not picking on Boy so much….there, I’ve thought about it. I can cross it off my list.

I think that’s about all I’m going to promise at this stage, because most likely, I’ll forget and then have to take my penance, which I’m sure will be horrible and involve chocolate and/or alcohol.

So, I swear on lizard guts and fish bones, and on the Starship Enterprise Bargaining Agreement, that I’ll try not to break these most sacred vows, under the threat of the death of my teddy bear Penelope.

On the other hand, if I do break them…I’ll be fine because the devil takes care of her own.