i work with a guy that displays mannerisms that one might expect from the love-child billy mays & al borland from TV’s Home Improvement.
more on that later.
so tired.
still marginally hungover from the baseball game last night.
life is getting very busy.
i’ll be at tonight’s game, too.
Think of me as an ombudsman of cheeseburgers, if you will.
This series will allow you to more correctly account for your daily caloric intake.
Today’s Fat Fact: If no one sees you eat it, and you leave no evidence – the calories, grams of fat, points, whatever metric you use to quantify your intake, are nonexistent.
It’s TRUE and before you go and hog wash me, I’d like you to take a moment and consider two factors that I know you’ll agree are true:
1) How many fat ninja have you seen in your life?
(I’m bet your answer is a big FAT zero!)
2) How many times have you witnessed a ninja eating?
(I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess this number too, is ZERO!)
No one ever sees ninja eat, so they never get fat.
There you have it folks, irrefuteable logic that if you, like ninja, are not seen consuming a bacon double cheeseburger, large fries and a giant sized coke in your car in the parking lot outside of work – you need not count those calories against yourself! Even if you already ate lunch and plan on eating a full dinner when you get home!
*Please note, Chris Farley’s character in Beverly Hills Ninja was not taken into consideration in determining Ninja statistics as Chris Farley was not actually a ninja, but an actor playing a ninja. Movies are make believe, duh!
if you’re not watching lebron james in the NBA playoffs you should be. you really should be.
ARRRRRRRGRHGHRRRR!
That’s right, I’m pissed.
I spent the entire weekend inside, cooped up with three smelly dogs that bark at every god damn thing in the world.
One of them farted, the other two are all “WHAT WAS THAT?!?!”
And they start barking about it.
And so then, the one that farted starts barking, because the other two are.
Pack mentality.
“There MUST be something worthwhile to bark about if those two are…”
Endless nameless cycle of dog farts and barks.
Oh and I can’t just skate out. The BigDogis all fucked up can’t be left alone for more than like 6 hours or he gets “upset”? My mom literally calls several times a day to check on him. Parents say that kids require so muchattention but I call bullshit. At least you can put on a SpongeBobDVD and let ‘em veg out for a couple hours every once in a while. Every try to entertain a hypersensativeOCD dog as he tries to EAT your 15 pound pug for sniffing his face too closely?
My girl’s in DC until Tuesday.
I’m camping out at my mom’s crib (watching the BigDoghere as I don’t have fenced in yardadge at CasaTomas) and I guess I’m just irratable.
I think what makes it worse is that the weekend is now over and I spent the whole sommamabitch inside playing a stupid video game.
So my moms is gonna come home tomorrow and be like, “Was everything okay?” and I’m gonna have to be like, “Fine, yeah, awesome, me + 3 dogswas a natural equation for fun.” Because if I tell her the trutchshe’ll be all, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you, I know it put you outta your way.” And all that other guilt inducing shit that moms say to their sons. Pathof least resistance.
Now in reality I did venture out.
I saw the R.I.P ARA show downtown Friday night.
I grabbed a beer with Mark.
I got VZ Navigator fixed on my phizzone.
Saw Seal (theJason, not the singer, THAT would have been badass, did you know that dude is married to Heidi Klum? Seriously? How does that work? He had a couple top forty songs and bickity bam, he gets a super model? I don’t know that it’s even. I kinda feel it’s akin to that little shit head kid you went to high school with. Straight C student, had bad skin and bad breath. Had that funny voice. Really liked the cafeteria food a lot and always ate your green beans off your tray? Really annoying dude. Yeah, his parents bought him a brand new Mustang GT for his 16th birthday.
I kinda feel like that is like Seal getting a German supermodel.
Except the difference is that fourteen years later the Mustang is rusted and ragged to hell and the douche is bagging groceries. By the by, try not to hit the guy’s car when you’re returning your cart to the designated cart return area that he’s parked next to. Fuck it, leave the damn cart in the parking lot, HE’S THE GUY that’s going to have to collect ‘em all at the end of his shift anyway.
Now like eighty people are going to e-mail how fucked up and wrong it is for me to bag on Seal just because he has a scarred face or whatever.
Fuck YOU, you fucking fucks!
I’ve been here since Thursday and don’t get to leave until tomorrow afternoon.