Just ran into Fred Anderson in downtown Palo Alto. I was leaving a Pilates class and walked around a corner and boom — practically bumped into him. He asked me why I haven’t been responding to his emails, and why we’re not paying the legal bills that his law firm has been sending us. I said something like, “Um, yeah, sure, I’m sure we are, and, um, mwah mwah mwah blah blah.” He’s like, “Excuse me?” I tried to slide past him but he blocked my way. So I went, “Hey, isn’t that Roger McNamee and Bono?” When he turned to look I ran away. I know, I know. I feel like crap. But look, someone’s gotta take the rap and it ain’t gonna be me. And it’s not like he’s gonna be in some Super-Max. It’ll be one of those country club places with the mafia guys and their personal chefs. And no more than 18 to 24 months is what my guys are telling me.