Greetings, O Inflated Left Rump Cheek of the Gods of Theta!

It is I, the most unworthy of your minions! Well, it has been a busy week here at Outpost Large Jaw. Minion Bruce and I were forced to accompany the Large Jawed Woman to scores of hospitals and doctors before the cause of her most recent physical ailment could be invented discovered. However, lest Your Amplitude worry that Bruce and I are not getting enough fresh air, I am happy to report that we also accompanied the Large Jawed Woman on her frequent expeditions on rolling shoes, doing our best to fit in with the colorfully dressed natives. It is truly heartening to see that in the mornings the Large Jawed Woman views herself on the verge of life function cessation as she visits medical purveyors, and yet as soon as she leaves the buildings in which they are housed, she scampers like a bug along the boardwalk. Praise the Infinite Lords of Theta! She herself gives credence to other deities such as Minion Donald Trump, but I know that at some point Tom Cruze will reveal himself to the Large Jawed Woman. And vice-versa, of course.



As you can see, Bruce was more successful than I, as he is already a native Terran Californian, although I did get several offers based solely upon my headgear. I also racked up a number of comments along the lines of "work it, gurrrrl! Work that Xanadu thing!" I am not sure what they meant, but Bruce assured me that it was quite complimentary.

Meanwhile, the Large Jawed Woman has been busy funneling large bottles of Bayer aspiring that she secretes in her pockets when we visit local drugstores into small prescription bottles that she flourishes at natives while simultaneously telling them that her head is about to explode from a combination of pain and bitter memories.