Speaking of lardasses, we haven't heard from the Las Vegas Cetacean for a week. He was despairing over his brazillion-calorie indiscretion, but bragging about pumping his recumbent bike, which cost Jeanette several hundred hours at the phone scam warehouse, at a rate that would exhaust Lance Armstrong. Whenever he's absent for a few days, I begin to suspect that his heart has exploded, as it soon must.