I for one am shocked, shocked, mind you, that anyone would suggest either that this blog is a dry exercise in noetic and logismic theoria or that I take part in such scandalous activity as caterwauling.  Fie!  What know these critics of things that are dry?  Why, I was dessicating the merest hint of joyous outbursts long before there was a blogodoxial epiphania, I’ll tell you that.  And furthermore I should state for the record that it is absolutely illegal in thirty-four states, and a few unincorporated municipalities in northwestern Kansas, for anyone older than thirty-six years of age to entice anyone else, or for that matter to willingly allow oneself to be enticed, into wauling caters for the sole purpose of caterwauling . . . that is to say, so long as money is not involved.  Professional caterwaulers, of course, will have their requisite journeyman licenses ratified by the local notary, or the treasurer of the local Kiwanis chapter, whoever happens to be free that day.

You see, this is how rumors get started.  And anyway, as everyone knows, Gavroche is addicted to Hello Kitty merchandise.