I have all kinds of noises coming out of me today. You, of course, are free to interperet that in any way you see fit.

Specifically, my shoe is making a really unfortunate farty noise, the result of which is that I am hobbling around the office, trying to put weight on other parts of the shoe and avoid the penetrating gazes of coworkers who fear airbiscuits have been floated. So I look like I've got a clubfoot ot something, like I'm some demented gnome creeping around the cube farm and haunting the daydreams of otherwise happy laborers, all in the interest of not making the farty sound.

And my stomach did one of those Airport Intercom Announcements in the middle of a staff meeting. "Any questions?" asked the boss.

Apparently, my stomach had one. "Mr. rrrrrrrrooooooggglloooorrrr, please pick up the White Courtesy Phone!" it cried, followed by some gibberish which I think was Czechoslovakian.

Anyway, I have to go, as I have just been informed that Escrow wants us to get over there RIGHT NOW and sign the Escrow papers for the house. I don't get it. We have a 60 day Escrow and then the sudden rush?

And just what the hell is Escrow? it's like some nebulous super-brainiac mass floating around by Rebulon 12 in a Star Trek episode.

"Escrow will provide. Throw down your weapons. There is peace and serenity in Escrow."

Noone seems to be able to define Escrow adeqately for me, so I'll just have to assume it's not going to eat me and that it's not actually an Earth satellite dispatched to deep space in the late 70s and now worshipped as a God. I just wish it would stop pushing me around, whatever it is.

So cool your damn heels Escrow. We'll be there.