This message is for the people who emailed me about my previous post:

Dear Helpful People,

Thank you very much for caring enough to contact me and tell me that the Chevy Chase who was on SNL, and the Chevy Chase who is holding my new mortgage, are very different entities. Maybe I need to take some writing courses, because the intention of that post was humorous sarcasm, and obviously I failed miserably in my attempt. Anyway, thank you very much, all you nice people out there; I appreciate your concern.

I might also add that I got my loan through Janice, the Menopausal Loan Officer (I do the sweating so you don’t have to!) and I highly recommend her services. She researched every loan in existence before she found one that suited her. And I know for a fact that before a loan will suit her, it has to be a perfect fit for her client. Highly recommended. Superior service. Awesome lovely person. You would all love her. She’s simply the best there is. (This is not humorous sarcasm; I really did get my loan via Janice. She’s a real business-person, and if you are in the market to re-finance your home, you should call her. She’ll do all the work, and all you have to do is show up and sign your name on about ten thousand dotted lines. )

That’s Janice, The Menopausal Loan Officer.

Here’s how to contact Janice. BE SURE YOU ASK FOR JANICE!

1-888-336-8750, ext. 209. ASK FOR JANICE. Nobody else will do.

Seriously, readers, you’d be crazy to get your loan anyplace else.

(Janice did NOT ask me to write about her. I did it on my own because she’s so cool.)

This is a testimonial, on a real blog. NOT an advertisement thinly disguised as a blog.

Yay, Janice! Thanks a million for doing up my mortgage! You’re the greatest!

On a different note, I bought a 24-pound frozen turkey at the supermarket on my way home from class tonight, and I did NOT drop it on my foot! Well, not yet anyway. So far, so good.

I had to put it on the milk shelf in the refrigerator, and move the milk to the juice shelf. We have no juice, so that works for the time being. Until my husband reaches for juice.

I always buy the turkey a week ahead of time and let it thaw in the ‘fridge. It’s usually thawed enough after a week, to allow me to reach my entire arm up to the shoulder into the maw, remove the bag of guts, and claw away any stalactites that are still holding on. I always feel like I’ve delivered a hideous baby, complete with afterbirth.

Maybe that is why I don’t much like to eat turkey. Maybe that’s why I also usually buy a ham.

With a ham, all you have to do is rub brown sugar on it, stick a few cloves here and there, throw it into the oven and presto. No delving into its interior. No leaky gut-bags.

Remember this name: Janice, the Menopausal Loan Officer. I’m not kidding; she’s the best thing to ever happen to the fascinating world of high finance.

I will have to say, the cat loves the turkey’s gut-bag. So all is not lost after all. Next Thursday morning, Cat-boy.