I know we've only known each other for four weeks and three days, but to me it seems like nine

weeks and five days. The first day seemed like a week, and the second day seemed like five days,

and the third day seemed like a week again, and the fourth day seemed like eight days,

but the fifth day you went to see your mother, and that seemed just like a day.

But then you came back, and later on the sixth day and the evening when we saw each other,

that started seeming like two days. So in the evening it seemed like two days spilling over into

the next day, and that started seeming like four days. So at the end of the sixth day, on into

the seventh day, it seemed like a total of five days, and the sixth day seemed like a week and a half.

I haven't written down, but I can show it to you tomorrow if you want to see it.

T-B-T-E-L!

Let me take off my assistant skirt, and put on my Barbara Streisand in the Prince of Tides

ass-masking therapist pantsuit. I know it's not pretty to look at, but it'll get you where you want to go.

That's a Donnie Brook. That's a total Donnie Brook. A Donnie Brook.

No, the Donnie Brook is. It's a Donnie Brook.

Do not put that on the imaginary radio show.

Are you sure this is legal? I don't know. It's fun, though, dude.

Man, it sure is. Because it's a Monday afternoon edition of T-B-T-L, the show that just might be

too beautiful to live. Now we're going to look at a place where hipster culture and world events collide.

My name is Luke Burbank. I'm your host. It's a tough, but rewarding job.

One that takes years to move into.

And a lifetime to master. Coming to you from Bellingham, Washington, the Bay City,

the Burbank Springs Broadcast Center, perched atop, Alabama Hill, Padaug.

...