A Friend Like Ben

I happened to hear Crispin Glover's rendition of Ben today. Mr. Glover's got this romantic sort of singing voice, all broken and sad, which makes it sound like he's singing just for you. His voice inspired two strange and (fortunately) fleeting desires:

1) To marry Mr. Glover, whom, of course, I have never met: anyone who can put that kind of passion into a song for a big hairy sewer rat must be my destined mate.

2) To serenade my rat.

Unfortunately for Stella, the second unnatural desire stuck around a little longer than the first:

Shortly after the filming of the above, Stella leapt off the beanbag chair and ran around the couch at least twenty times, with me in hot pursuit. When I caught her, she bit my sleeve and scratched the palm of my hand.

Nonetheless, everyone ought to have a friend like Ben Stella. With friends like her, as they say, why bother with enemies?

Right, I'll stop making fun of my poor rat now. Truth be told, I'm so relieved to see her feeling better, I wouldn't have minded if she'd torn the sleeve of my shirt clean off and shortened my pointerfinger by an inch.