Monday off work = Bad TV time!

<p>Well, the woman and I went out for breakfast. I’m still full… way too much food. We went shopping for as long as we could stand. Now it’s barely into the afternoon and there’s nothing to do but watch Maury. I tried to stop in the Time Warner store and beg them for cheaper cable, but no sales people were there. Alas, there’s no choice but to watch the over the air junk. Nothing like a full hour of paternity tests. I guess it’s good to know that if I get a bunch of bad tattoos and start drinking malt liquor for breakfast I will have a place to go when some skanky girl I’ve never met comes after me for child support.</p>
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Go Pack Go!

Well, the Packers lost again yesterday.  No big surprise.  They are going to have a rough year again.  The worst part about this season will certainly center around #4.  I was hoping last year would be it for him.  He had the dramatic exit winning against his old coach, handing the ball off to Aaron Rogers in the final minutes.  It was perfect… Instead, we have to watch him struggle through this season.  It is true, he can make a team better; a good team.  In the late 90’s he had an amazing team around him and he helped them win.  Now he has a rather mediocre team around him and he is making them worse.  Favre doesn’t seem to realize that you can’t throw the ball as far downfield as possible with no Javon Walker there to jump up and catch it.  You can’t throw bullets into double coverage if there’s no Robert Brooks with the hands to hang on.  So instead we just get interception after interception.  It’s a shame.  I guess we’ll have to wait until next year for the Packers to start getting good again.  If Favre retires after this season, then the new quarterback can finally break his way into the game and start developing the team around him.  Until then, the Colts are looking pretty good… read more

Fore!

Well I took a day off work yesterday and decided to go golfing.  Not long ago I realized I haven’t played Whitnall Park in years.  So rather than go to a nearby course I trecked out that way to play.  I was looking forward to it, as I’ve played Whitnall countless times and it’s almost always been a nice course.  Not today.  The greens were brown and the tee boxes had little to no grass on several holes.  It didn’t help that the greens were coated in fertilizer.  Putting was nearly impossible.  Weird thing was, if you chipped from close up the ball would roll clear across the green.  When putting, the greens were incredibly slow and required a lot of muscle to move the ball.  Anyway, I played pretty poorly on the front 9.  I’m pretty disappointed with myself for not getting out to play much this year.  I got a lot better on the back 9, but not great.  I’ve had a lot of trouble hitting my irons in the last year, not sure why.  For some reason I kept trying to get the ball up in the air and would make a divot behind the ball, and the shot would go nowhere.  That or I’d try to overhit and barely get the club into the ground.  I’ve been working on it, and made good strides hitting into the ground in front of the ball and had some very pretty iron shots.  My drives were pretty good, all 250-275 yards and most of them very straight.  Short game killed me, couldn’t chip from inside 20 yards and the putting, as I mentioned, was not happening.  Hopefully I’ll be able to get out and play a lot more before it gets too cold. read more

An open letter to retail customers

Hello, good morning, good afternoon, how do you do?  Are you familiar with any of these phrases?  It sure seems as though they are foreign to you.  I hope it does not come as too much of a shock, but I checked in to it and “I need” is not an acceptable greeting in any part of the world.  So before you bombard me with demands, take a deep breath and please acknowledge the fact that you are talking to a person, not a machine or giant clown with a speaker in its nose.  I don’t expect you to care about my day, as I surely don’t care about yours.  I merely request the simple courtesy of a “hello” before any further yelling commences. read more

Your cat wants to kill you

Preface: I’m not a cat hater, I have owned cats and like cats.  This is not meant to be taken seriously.  It is more of an outline for a book I’d like to write.  The different paragraphs pretty much represent different chapters.  If this offends you, then you take life too seriously and should concentrate on real problems, like toenail fungus.

Your cat wants to kill you.  Really, it does.  Before you laugh this all off, stop and think for just a moment.  It’s true.  Now just try to stay with me for a while, because I can prove it. read more

Pemberton McNimble

One fine April 15th good old Pemberton McNimble woke up at 3PM (like every day) and started to go about his business. He, of course, skipped his shower. He ate the slice of pizza that had been stuck to the floor for the past week. Orange strands of carpeting were embedded in the crust. The cheese was hard, like rubber used for tires. Even the pepperoni had some unknown life form attached to it, which resembled wild mushrooms. Pemberton didn’t care, he devoured the slice in a few bites. He tried to turn on the television, but it didn’t work. Pemberton didn’t pay his cable or electric bill, so his power was turned off. He wandered into his kitchen and checked out his fridge. There was a thin coating of moss on the inside of the refrigerator. He grabbed the red cardboard carton of milk and tried taking a drink. He was not surprised to find the milk had again solidified in the carton. He tossed the milk back in the fridge next to a carton of eggs so old, that they could probably hatch chickens. Pemberton stepped outside to check his mail. He had received two things. The first was a postcard from the post office saying that his mail would not be delivered until he cleared a path through the garbage that cluttered his front lawn. “Great,” he thought, “No more bills.” The second piece of mail was a final notice on his water bill. Pemberton mumbled some obscenities to himself and tossed both pieces of mail into the heap of trash on his yard. Pemberton then returned to his couch and his slumber. read more