Go send Dave a llama for his (belated) birthday. Happy number 30, D. This is where it starts to get good. Well, it starts to get good if you are making lots of money and dating a busty, bisexual ex-stripper with gorgeous blue eyes and racking up loads of really handy frequent flier miles which is what I was doing when I was thirty. Actually twentynine, but close enough. Thirty for me was a little too close to 9/11 for comfort so I tend not to think about that. Regardless, happy birthday!