Body Language: Morning Reveille (& Revelry) in SF

Stomach:  Hey, what is that gooey stuff that Kelly is putting on the Shoulder?

Brain: I don't know.  It's kind of an ivory-yellow color.

Stomach: Is that bacon grease? I think it's bacon grease!

Brain: WHAT?  WHAT did you say?

Stomach: I think that he is using bacon grease.

Brain:  Are you completely mad?   And even if it is, what are you thinking?  That the Face will chew it off the Shoulder later?

Shoulder:  What? What are you talking about?  I'm a little tied up right now.

Nose: It doesn't smell like bacon grease.

Stomach: I'm just saying...   Well, then, how about more coffee?

Face: I'd like some more coffee, too.

Lungs: Oh, yeah, sure, ok!  Let's pour coffee into the Throat while lying flat on the Back on a table.  It's not like that will result in, I don't know, maybe my inhaling fluid and all of us choking to death?!

Brain:  La-la-la, I cannot hear you, la-la-la.

Shoulder: I'm sorry, were the last four sleepless nights packing ice at 2am not enough of a message for you?  Do I need to perhaps repeat myself?

Rest of Body:
Rest of Body:
Rest of Body:

Shoulder: I didn't think so.


Stomach: I still think it's bacon grease.