I told you Nicolexia was a racy sort. She always hangs out with the toffs when she's out of my sight. Here in March 2003, she's pictured having to forgo her usual parking slot for a stretch limo, which was hired for my mother's 60th birthday celebrations. You know I just don't get it: if I walked outside on my birthday and was presented with these two cars I'd jump straight in the blue one. Am I a social deviant? Do I need correction?