Though I was lying in a ditch, I am well. The same can't be said for my internet status work. Let's see. Xanga has been blocked and deemed "pornography" by the latest security software installed at work. So yeah, what to do about this blog. I've got a number of gems to write about, but I don't really know how to get it to you. And by the time I get home, I don't feel like writing about them. We shall see, but for now, I'm still here, sorta. Where are you?
To be categorized in the only me file, Nyles had been literally bellyaching all day about his stomach. He eventually gave up and went home a couple of hours ago. The reason for his ailment: he went to Costco on Saturday and loved the sausage samples so much he bought three packs. When he got home, he fried up three and ate them with a couple of beers. Now, he might have an ulcer.
If you don't hear back from me, I'm either at the bottom of the ocean or I've been captured by The Others. It's a good thing I've been watching Man vs. Wild and Survivorman this summer. Oh and someone else would need to pick up Jeanine from the airport tomorrow night.
For the first time in my life, I went to a church service where the worship featured a fog machine. I need more cowbell!
While researching trivia on UC San Diego for a game, I found the place to be a lot more boring than I remembered.
I'm debating whether I should participate in a fantasy football league. I am very hesitant because I think that the statistical game has nothing to do with the purity of on the field competition and the glory of passionate fanaticism. It doesn't really reflect the true business of sports because you're missing out on the all important jell factor. But then again there's money-ball, but there is no money real or fantastical involved. Who am I? Paul DePodesta?
