Weapons of Mass Destruction

I had no sooner reached my mountaintop when the Polish granate handler hurled a granate into my foxhole. He has a spotter down here who guides him. It happens every so often. So I have been running around in my foxhole trying to save my life. I am still out of breath. I made a tactical error in trying to be honest and that never pays in this Catholic diocese. I am waiting for more incoming tomorrow. I am getting the funniest e-mails, however, and my friend Friderico actually wrote a play about it. In a way many things got clearer in my own head: What did I promise three years ago? Where will I make a stand? Some of my hood friends are livid, my non-hood friends, too. I realized that I promised actually very little and I will not let them broaden the agenda now. Went to Mass at my church yesterday morning. I am too distracted to get much out of it these days but this, too, will pass. My recently fixed A/C is still not working or not working again so that is more important and all this other nonsense. Unfortunately, my depression is kicking in again a little bit more but that shall pass, too.
The good news is that Mr. Finkelstein got married and is now Mr. Seligman. It was a lovely wedding. I offered him a job as director of one of the branch offices of the world wide cheese monopoly that I inherited from grandpapa. He accepted.