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Owl, I hate to say that I'm not shocked that Maria has come to this. While in the City of Transgendered-Sibling Love for the 2000 NFL contest between Andy Reid's Philadelphia Eagles and Marty Schottenheimer's Washington Redskins, which the Burgundy and Gold turned in to a glorious 13-3 victory during their five-game winning streak which counterbalanced their 0-5 season-opening crash, I went to a watering hole near Veteran's Stadium to celebrate the win. While drinking at the bar, a woman approached me and asked in a sultry, raspy voice, if I've ever been handcuffed and frisked before for fun.

Whoa! Slow down, I thought to myself. In the dark, smoky bar, especially after 12 brews were put down, she didn't look half bad. After chatting her up for a while and surmising that she was not a complete psycho, I decided to play along. We went back to her place, but I told here there would be no handcuffs, but frisking was okay. But, as I got that thought together and verbalized, Maria "pulled her gun" on me and advised me to "assume the position."

Fortunately for me her apartment is only on the third floor, so there was no hesitation on my part to jump from the window and beat feet on back to Virginia where we don't have those kinds, although some would question the aesthetic qualities of the Hogettes.