"But ah'm not afraid of dyin'. Cause I know that when I get to heaven there are gonna be these wonderful trees, and ah'm gonna climb them. But you know what? Instead of leaves and flowers, those trees are gonna have fried eggs, and delicious Virginia ham, and big heaping bowls of biscuits and sausage gravy. And one day, Sammy, you're gonna meet me there, and we're gonna climb those breakfast trees together, and it's gonna be delicious and we're gonna be happy until the end of time."


Viejo Indecente

Another religious holiday, another mockery made of it by my friends and colleagues. Two years ago there was the Easter Beer Hunt, a moderately organized, entirely drunken festivity. Last year was the OK Ball (crouquet, but featuring more booze) tournament, which Ross won because he was the least drunk in the Championship flight. Chris was the cigar-smokin', crown-of-thorns-wearing, AA Easter Bunny for that one. This year, the majority of the crowd chose to forgo all structure and start drinking gin at 10 a.m. Then there was Ham Quest 2000. These people are just silly.

I swear I posted yesterday. Not entirely sure where it went. Might be hanging out with my mind somewhere. Vegas maybe.

I think we found a house. It's definitely a house, walls, floor, roof, whole caboodle. That's about all I have to report. Lovely country-style wallpaper boarders around each room. Really charming.
{{gag gag gag}}. They offer dial-up and ludicrously (over) priced DSL in Smithville. I can't wait! I just keep telling myself dishwasher, dishwasher...

Let's talk about how much I want to go to Argentina this summer. Mucho. Now let's talk about how much I can't. If I am to afford to eat next year, my ass is working every week and saving $ the majority of the summer. Paris Hilton can trade situations with me anytime, and when that goes through I'll be set. Until then: financial outlook cloudy.

Okay, time to work, really. I mean it. I'm out the door. No one can stop me....

Listening to: The Masters