As we begin our strange and mysterious entry this morning, Marn wakes up on May 22, 2001 in a strange bedroom. There is a mugginess in the air, a sticky, Georgia-like humidity unknown to Quebecois. Something feels not quite right. She's experiencing a feeling ... an odd feeling ... not d�ja vu. In fact, it's the polar opposite of d�ja vu�a feeling that she's about to have a day unlike any she's had before. A day, in fact, that will be her 50th birthday. A "Freaky Friday" kind of day in which she has inexplicably woken up in Badsnake's life.

It could just be me, but there seems to be a little more to the Adventure part of MarnCo, the big multinational national company behind The Big Adventure today. When I rolled over to throw an arm around the spousal unit this morning, I could tell immediately that something was very very wrong with Paul. First: big pillowy mounds on his chestal area. Second, upon further exploration: something very very important missing in the .:cough:. Between the Legs Department .:cough:. .

I shook him, saying "Paul, Paul, what's wrong with you? Is there something you've been meaning to tell me?" But he mumbled something confusing about lesbian pancakes and continued sleeping, I decided to go to the source of all solid information here at MarnCo. Mortimer.

But even Mort didn't seem himself.

By God and All Things Maple, something is seriously wrong here, eh. You should have heard the lewd suggestion that the nice uniformed lady next door made to me when I went outside. Just as I was about to pass out from the shock of seeing my garden shrunk to such pathetic tinyness, she kissed me. Right on the lips. Which was nice actually. But WRONG. Still very WRONG.

I wonder, dear Marn readers, was there something that slipped by the diligent and Dutch ass-kicking Team Newkirk. A warning from above? A mocking, evil, laughing radio message from deepest space.

I know I was just kidding when I talked about the Aluminum Foil Deflector Beanies before, but I suspect nefarious mind control is at work here, people. Possibly implemented by the WTO. And I need a deflector now or we're all in a metric buttload of trouble. Because I am Marn!, Ruler and CEO of MarnCo, and if this happens to Me when I turn 50, it could happen to any one of You!

And I still don't look like Linda Hamilton in "Terminator 2".

But my Aluminum Foil Deflector Fez looks nice, eh? Much better than a beanie. Just needs a few rhinestones.