"Andy has some words of advice he’d like you to pass on to your friend Ana Marie."

Evan looked over to the far end of the bar where George Panagiotopoulos sat in his black rayon shirt with the asymmetric flower motif looking more than a little like a cheap imitation of Tony Soprano except T would never be sitting with his back to the doors and windows ... even at the OB where this biggest danger was a visit by Patrick Kennedy.

"Andy? You mean Andy Williams? Channeled Andy? You’re still in touch with him?"

George nodded. Evan wasn't really that surprised.

"You should know by now that I don’t have any friends which is one reason why you’re sitting over there and I’m sitting over here. And if you mean Wonkette ... that Ana Marie ... you, or Andy, or whoever, should realize that I don’t know her any better than the hundreds, or maybe thousands, of other people who read her blog ... though I’m thinking maybe I already know her better than I want to ... and I haven’t actually read her for more than a week."

"Being pretty isn’t easy ... and being easy isn’t pretty. That’s what Andy said to tell her."

Evan shook his head, raised his glass about two fingers high in a mock salute than turned back to pretending he was studying the wines behind the bar.

"Andy has some advice for you too. He says maybe you need to take a break from some of your reading. Maybe you need to get away from 'Contemplative Prayer' and 'Confessions of Saint Augustine'. He’s suggesting that you could try 'Lamb'. It’s by Christopher Moore. 'Lamb - The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal' by Christopher Moore. Yeah, that’s it. Something different. Andy thinks you’ll like it ... with all due respect, of course."