Junior, meanwhile, is sitting on a park bench, staring at a giant ten-story bottle that I guess is some sort of billboard or something. Whatever it is, I'm sure I'll be getting email about it. And just as a fun email note, by the way, I'll tell you that I got six separate letters last week telling me that the golf club cover in Jack Masserone's mouth was really for a five wood, and not a five iron like I said. What's interesting is that all six of them came from lawyers. That means something, but I'm not sure what. Anyway, Junior is soon joined by an elderly black woman who tries to strike up a conversion by asking if he lives nearby. "Do you know me?" wonders an addled Uncle Jun. "Are you my mother?" The fact that they're sitting on a park bench discussing philosophical identity issues combined with her soon-to-be-revealed occupation has led the kids in the forum to dub her "The Hooracle" (tm franabanana), and that's certainly better than anything I was thinking of. Junior asks if she knows about some club in the neighborhood, and she laughs and informs him that it burned down years ago. Then she tells him that he's good-looking. "What are you saying?" he wonders. "You and I had relations?" Heh. Insert your own Monica Lewinsky joke here. The Hooracle giggles at him again, and tells him that "some bitch" in a taxicab ran over her foot. Um, okay. I'm counting that one as Taxicab Confessions's official HBO shout-out, by the way, because I just don't think anyone else cares enough about that show to bother. This reminds Junior that he's got a car himself, and Grandma Ho-ses's (tm Slashgirl) eyes light up. "Want a date?" she asks. "I'll give you half-and-half in the back seat." Bwah! I totally didn't see that coming. I do, however, think it speaks well of all you that so many people in the forums didn't know what "half-and-half" means. Even if a disturbingly large percentage of you do know what a "pearl necklace" is.