That’s a lot more than the crack. That’s the whole alimentary canal.

Also, WOOD AT THE ENTRANCE HOLE

When I was in New York a few years ago, I saw Patrick Stewart in the lobby of my hotel. I realized he was staying there too, so I looked for him after that. I’d often see him in the morning, wearing a long winter coat and fedora, and going out for a walk in the park.

A few days into my trip, we rode up on the elevator together. I stood there, looking at the back of his neck the whole time, and trying not to wet myself.

When the door opened, we both got out on the same floor. We walked down to the very end of the hall, where we discovered we were staying right across from each other.

I seem to recall saying something like, “Look, we’re staying right across from each other!” And he smiled patiently and said “Good day”, in that Picard voice.

The next morning, I heard room service knocking on my door. Or at least, I thought I heard them knocking on my door. By the time I got there, I realized they were knocking on his door. And I stood there, with my ear pressed against the door, listening to him talking with the waiter.

“Your breakfast sir”, said the waiter.

There was a pause. And then, in the magnificent tones of the Captain of the USS Enterprise, I heard, “THESE ARE NOT MY EGGS.”

They were, of course, my eggs. But I was too shy to open the door and claim them.

I have a confession to make.

I love this meerkat. And I love this seller.

I realize you aren’t used to this level of warmth from me, but it’s Captain Picard Day.