-Sarah Silverman

Nothing like sitting here on a day's finally feeling of ending. I've come home from a late night fest of watching some X-Files episodes due to Sara's impulse of not only wanting to see them but showing me what I missed due to my not watching TV much back then. Plus, I rescued a spider that was crawling down the wall while we talked in bed.

Hedgehoggy: Good for spiders and good for America!

Yes, I set the little arachnid free to wander off into the night's eerie quietness. There's nothing like seeing a guy barely awake and feeling like he has just had 16 beers fast walking with a spider in his hands to set free. It's always so hard to wave goodbye to another misunderstood creature that eats those fucking flies I detest so much. You wanna help my world? I hate flies. Hate them, hate them, hate them.

I was telling Sara that it's expensive being with her. She's got me started on various TV shows I missed out on in the past that have found their way on DVD. I feel so stupid that I turned down those $100 X-Files sets that are so coveted by the obsessed. Luckily, the $35 sets can keep my slowly building obsession's appetite. C'mon, a show that has a telemarketing firm being led by what looks like a giant grasshopper/cockroach in an episode is so fetch.

See? I can keep up with y'all's lingo.

Getting home is just full of things that I have to do. No napping because there is a dog that insists on running up and down my back or stomach to tell me how much she missed me. Not to mention the noise she creats in keeping this neighborhood watch program alive and well after her absence as I've been gone.

I mean, I am just plum-fucking-tired right now, yo. And, yes, I did make it into the gym, giving it my best in all I did. As much as I dreaded it, I still ran that damn beast (treadmill) as always in my continuously shrinking ass. It's there but you need a magnifying glass and a sense of humor as I sort of have a small zit on it. Who the fuck gets a zit on his/her ass? Me, that's who.

Of course, the heat brings odd mishaps when it comes to various workout equipment that needs to be plugged in. My treadmill, along with the guy's next to me, just stopped while we were running at top speed. Let me tell ya that that was very scary as I could have just slammed myself into the front portion of the machine. The guy looked at me with a quizzy look just as I did, too. He quit while I finished up my run on a different treadmill. I'm not leaving my gym til I'm done.

The TVs in front of me show a variety of programs to keep your mind away from how much longer it's gonna be til you've burned off 1 of 2 giant burritos as you're holding that fart in as best you can. To the left is always MTV or VH1, our music (oops, we don't play that but instead have people search each other's rooms to show people what kind of underwear a woman keeps) channels while the middle is almost always ESPN, the sports network. Women are known to being more on the left and right than in the middle since the right is news programs. I like the right more so since I only get a light hint of the large fan's blow.

I don't know why I do it even if it just might be best that I rest. An hour's drive and catching up with my dog as she barks out how her day was and how I'm such an asshole for leaving her here can really wear a guy out. My mind needs to be stimulated while I feel a great workout calms me.

Plus, I get to see Slut Watcher as he always asks me (I swear it's the first sentence out of his mouth) on where the prettiest girls are in the gym. There is nothing like seeing a guy that you ask what he did this weekend.

"I partied!"

Okay, if sitting there in front of a 25-inch TV with whatever beer is on sale and no clothes on is a party, then he must party hard. 35-year-old guys that need to clean their teeth and stop obsessing over sports and what color panties are being worn on which girl in my gym need to stop using "party" as their best adjective. It's over, guys. Your dicks are orange from all the Cheeto dust and you wake up face down in front of the TV with no one's panties gracing your floor.

I'm still hanging out with "Franny And Zooey" by J.D. Salinger as best I can. What I think the problem with these so called classics is that I just cannot relate. This whole book seems to be a debate on a mixture of religion's making one kooky. I'm sure there is more but I'm not done yet. My hopes went up when I read a rumor that Julia Stiles might play the lead in Sylvia Plath's "The Bell Jar." Not the greatest of books but nice in some ways.

P.S. I enjoy crazy people in literature since they are far more interesting than old geezers that continue to debate F. Scott Fitzgerald and Hemmingway.

Of course, I missed you. Whenever I took the time to check out ol' D-Land, I had to tell the headbutting cat behind me that I needed some "me time." Why she spends 15 hours asleep and then just decides to insist I give out attention while walking all over the desk is her thing. Cats are odd but I love dogs more as Sara can tell you that I point out each one we see.

Plus, raccoons going out for a late night shopping spree are fun to watch. Saw one running around in the downtown area after our X-Files craveth endeth.

- - 2009-07-07

Love Facebook - 2009-05-07

Retards Away! - 2009-02-16

Jackasses! I Sees 'Em! - 2008-11-28

My Birthday Happened - 2008-09-07