Getting all sorts of props from Gregster's blog. Sweet.

Verbal Exchange of the Week:
Girl: I think I'm going to get a kitten.
Me: Why?
Girl: I just want something soft and cuddly to hold on to and love.
Me: Maybe you should get a soft and cuddly counselor.
Girl: I did. We were working on my abandonment issues and he keeps rescheduling our appointments.
Me: [laughing at the irony]

I've managed to catch the first two episodes of South Park this season. Holy shit. It's still the funniest fucking thing on TV. Ever.

We've got Sirius Satellite radio here in Greg's office, but I've rigged my computer to the Sirius boom box so that I can listen to Dr. Laura. Two guys in the office walked up behind me and heard the radio; I felt like I got caught doing something dirty. I would have rather they caught me looking at porn.

All I've done this week is work, sleep, work out. All work and no play. Actually, all work has got me no play. The saying should be "all work means no lay."

goochout.

NYC restaurant offers $1000 pizza.

They should make all pizzas $1000. All hamburgers, too. Maybe that will combat the obesity problem we face in this country. Free apples and carrots, but $500 for an order of of fries.

I'm like one of those fat doctors that tells people to lose weight. Heh!

Free vodka, too. And Red Bull. I mean, if I'm calling the shots that is.

Shout out to Wolfe. Hope I didn't besmirch the office of the DJ Presidency at Montego's.

I just walked into the door from a job. I did good for being tired. A happy customer means that I'll sleep well tonight. It sucks that my mood is directly corellated to my own job performance.

I'm tired. I made my bed, but there's something wrong with my pillows. I tried out some others a week or so ago and they're so much better than what I have now:















What's more shocking about this picture: The bulbousness of my face or the size of the wedding ring?

I've got nothing witty to say. My brain is fried. I'm going to quit wasting your time.

goochout.

I think I could start a collection of pictures of me passed out on a couch. I like this pic because you can just see the top of an offending beer bottle at the bottom of the frame. I crashed at Greg's house last night so that we could get in to the office at 7:30am this morning to field any DST 2007 computer issues.

Issues fielded: 0

Mad props to Greg for patching the shit out of everything in this office so that everything worked okay. Meanwhile, my Blackberry is in the throngs of a web based updater. If things get screwed up, you'll call me and my phone will ring an hour later.

I'm kidding.

gooch:out