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-L!

Let me take off my assistant skirt, and put on my Barbara Streisand in the Prince of Tides, as Masking Therapist Pansuit.

I know it's not pretty to look at, but it'll get you where you want to go.

Right about now, your bladder feels like an overstuffed vacuum cleaner bag, and your butt is kind of like an about to explode bratwurst.

But you're a wingman. Even if it means me taking a chubby, I will suck it up.

Hey, I saw you checkin' out my goods!

Yes, it's normal, but no more than four times a day.

Are you sure this is legal?

I don't know. It's fun though, isn't it?

Okay, instant coffee, day three.

Okay, that is legitimately good now, at this point.

I realized last night, as I was lying in bed, that I was craving the instant coffee.

That I have, in fact, become the instant coffee.

Hi, everyone. Welcome to a Wednesday morning edition of T-B-T-L, the show that just might be too beautiful to live.

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