The reason I am a total pauper instead of just your average broke guy, is because I have an addiction to nice hotel rooms. Somehow slumming on people's cots just doesn't get it for me. Sleeping in the livingroom and being woken up at six in the morning by a harried person going to work, or worse, startled out of bed by a howling dog or baby at the crack of dawn, just doesn't seem like vacation to me. My rule for vacationing is this: If the degrading conditions of the vacation are more degrading than regular life, then it's not a vacation. Please mail gift certificates for nights a high-end hotels. Save me from bankruptcy.

Shaku Shotoku, (aka Mel C. Thompson).