Nothing's going on.

It's almost two and all I've done today is watch three episodes of Big Day, two eposides of CSI (Las Vegas, naturally), finished the season finale of the Dead Zone (finally), and I ate a plate of Tater Tots. Then I took a shower and realized I have no business eating a plate of Tater Tots. I think I need to go on that post-holiday diet that SJ was talking about. I've never actually dieted before. (shut up, Jeremy) I've always been a believer that if you stay active you can eat pretty much whatever you want. Apparently though, sitting around for five hours watching TV isn't quite the activity level required for that.

And maybe the lemon-garlic chicken I make with the, you know, stick of melted butter isn't such a good idea either.

Or it could just be all the beer I had last night.

Swim away, swim away!

You guys ever had this stuff? Moose Munch from Harry and David?

Don't do it.

If you ever see a bag of this around, just run away.

Trust me.

The world according to a five year old.

This just in:

Superman is cooler than Santa.

(but have a merry Christmas anyway)

My tree is more lovely than a poem.

So I'm flipping through Rolling Stone magazine (thank you, anonymous Rolling Stone subscription donor) and the kid walks by and catches a glimpse of something that automatically appeals to boys under the age of ten. Butts. Naked butts, to be exact. To make a long story short, take a look at what I saw the next time I walked into the living room.





Yeah, this is what a five year old considers an appropriate Christmas ornament.


Kids are weird.

Friday, finally.

I saw a bumper sticker that said Abortion Stops a Beating Heart and I was all, yeah, but wouldn't it be kind of creepy if it didn't?

In the morning.

You know that great feeling when you turn over in the night and look at your clock and you realize you have like, two more hours before you have to get up? You look at the clock hoping it doesn't say you have to get up in twenty minutes, and when you see it's only four AM you're all happy and you roll back over with a smile on your face.

Well, you know what feels even better? When you wake up and look at the clock and notice that you would have left ten minutes ago if you actually had to go to work today. Then you still get to roll over and go back to sleep.

That's right, bitches, I have the day off. Nice.

Frumpy day.

Those of you who have been reading this sorry excuse for a blog a while may remember what the rain does to my hair.

Well, this morning I had on a jacket with no hood and my day was ruined.

All because of my hair.

Actually, all because the jacket I should have had on was at the drycleaners and when I went to pick it up yesterday I had this whole freak out because I thought I left my wallet at DSW but found it in my car a little later incident and couldn't get the jacket because I had no money on me. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a gay retard. Who uses run on sentences.

Sundays always suck

I jut stepped in cat puke. I swear, I don't know why I bother feeding that cat sometimes. I would save time by just dumping the can of food right on the floor. The only fun part is when I hear her making the "I'm about to puke" noise and I see if I can get her off the carpet and to the tile in time. It's kind of like that game Perfection.

I put up a little comedy for you. Enjoy!

My own math problem

A box of See's candy + being alone in the office = bad combination.

Slave driver.

I'm so mean.

My kid is home sick today and I have him doing worksheets.

No slacking off here!

Well, I mean, after we finished watching Superman Returns and Fat Albert.

Hey

Want to hear something gross?

I use the pocket on the back of the passenger seat in my car as a garbage can, and I've been sick so right now it's stuffed full of used Kleenex.

Gross, huh?

Sometimes I wish I had an automatic

So, Turkeyblog likes to bitch about his forty minute commute, well how about my hour and a half drive home today for NO FUCKING REASON AT ALL?

No accident.
No death, no carnage.
Not a single cop or tow truck in sight.

Just fifty thousand fuckers crammed into three lanes.

And FYI, when you call 511 and you say "Are you fucking kidding me?" because they have nothing about highway 85, they respond with "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

Don't even bother saying it again, he still won't catch it.

It's a Jungle Out There

I don't care what anyone says, I love the show Monk. I love Tony Shalhoub. I loved him in Wings and I love him as Monk. I love the theme song. (which I don't have, but I would love...)

Some may say I love the show because I have certain things in common with the main character.

Those people lie.




I even love the chick who replaced Sharona, even though her name is Traylor. I figure she was trying to do something unique, and didn't realize that she named herself after something that gets blown away by a tornado.

And I can even forgive her for Son of the Mask.

Barely.

Maybe next time.

I wish New York & Company would stop sending me emails. I keep thinking I have real email.

Be honest.

If there was a $5 rebate offer on your beer, would you send for it?

(much too) lazy morning

I really need to get moving. But this chair is so comfortable.

I saw a Miata with the license plate BVRTRNR yesterday.

Does that say what I think it does?

Oddest thing I've seen in a while:

A sweatshirt that said "I Unicycle for Christ"

But the chick who was wearing it didn't even unicycle! Not for you, not for me, and certainly not for Christ.

Slang

A woman on the radio today called in and said she was "juiced" to have gotten through. I've never heard juiced. I don't like it much. Then again, I don't like much of the slang the young kids are using these days. Or, you know, ten years ago.

I say totally all the time.
I say dude, but only for emphasis. (I won't call you dude)
Never much liked tight.
Hated sick.

I remember when someone said those words to me for the first time. I was wearing a shirt kind of like this:


Only it was cooler, and didn't say "TAG THIS", and it was from Gap Kids so it was actually much smaller. Anyway, some guy tells me "the fish are sick!"

I was confused.

Then he said my shirt was tight and I'm all, duh, it's a kid's shirt.

Turns out, he was complimenting me. Who knew?

This morning on the KFOG morning show they were talking about how cold it’s been in the mornings lately. Irish Greg says “It was so cold in the city that when I was waiting for my train I could see my breath!”
It makes me laugh how spoiled we are here in the bay area. I’m complaining when the temperature falls below 60. God forbid it rains, that just ruins my mood all day long. If it’s not sunny and 80 it’s like the end of the world.

I bet the other states think we’re pansies.

But you know what?

They can go ahead and stand in the snow while calling me a pansy. I’ll be laughing all the way to the beach.

So there.