Being male, I assumed that when, at Eeyore's, a woman wandered up to me and said that while she owned a didjeredoo, and it was actually from Australia, she didn't know how to play it, and maybe someone would come over to her house and help her learn to play, I was being hit on. Butterfly was of the impression that, being male, I *always* assumed I was being hit on, even when someone might just have wandered over to a complete stranger to arrange a didj lesson. A brief, lively conversation on the gender dynamics of being hit on and responding to such followed, Badger chiming in.

I forget the actual conversational thread, but we came up with a lovely conspiracy of ex's who trade photos of their still-significant others to orchestrate stalking and general misery--"here's Luke, he broke up with me six months ago and my life is over. If you see him, please try to strike up a relationship with him, dump him, and give me the location where I can pick up the pieces." "Bobby put out a restraining order on me last August, but here's his address, please help." That sort of thing.

"Sort of a Hands Across America," I said.

"Yes," added Butterfly. "Woeful Hands Across America."

"Or maybe 'Wronged Hands Across America.'"

Long pause.

"WHAA?"

When we caught our breaths, proposals for the WHAA website began in earnest. Butterfly had a great idea for a slogan, which I can't remember :( Mine was "We're here for you because he's not." Very hard to stop laughing that morning.