Is there any other way?

Ah. I am bored. Sitting here, half watching Fabulous Life of Justin Timberlake, thinking he has WAYYYYYY too much freaking money... Bored.

TJ, you are now Mr. Green, buddy. Erica was the one that named you Mr. Brown, I let her fiddle with my HTML, if ya know what I mean.

There is a little rat-hole bar on Maryland, just up from Trop, behind Wendy's with the best babyback ribs I have ever had. Small, smokey and one of the pool tables was missing the 8 ball, but you can't complain because they have the best babyback ribs I have ever had.
It's called Side Out. Thank you.

If you come into the store, unshaven, smelling like 151, wearing a back pack and looking shady, following you is my job, asshole, don't look so surprised.

Still bored, but venting is fun.

I talked to a drug dealer for about five minutes at a Christmas party last night. I didn't know he was a drug dealer at the time, I just thought he was a tool. He went on and on about how bad-ass his stereo is, and how he has spent thousands of dollars so he can hear every little nuance of this European New Age music he likes. Ya know, he was dressed in a red silk shirt, black leather suit, pimp shoes and hair from 1986... How did I not realize he was a dealer?

I need to finish my laundry, and I have nothing of real importance to write about anyway, so...

Adios

I miss you guys.