Oh my goodness, let’s write a post!
I’m so excited about all the great blog posts I’ve been reading that I want to take part, unfortunately, I ain’t got shit to say that makes sense to anyone about anything important, so it’s random crap time again!
It was 12:14 AM when I got home from work tonight and I was hungry for something sort of good for me so….hello big salad!
I’m on a bit of a salad kick at home for some reason. Salads and watermelon. Is watermelon good for you? I hope so, because I’ve eaten about seven of them this month already. They’ve been so good.
Anyway, back to the salad. It had about 48 pounds of meat and cheese and other cheeses and some olives for color or something like that. It was good as fuck, whatever that means.
Now it’s 1:20 AM and this is as far as I’ve gotten on this post because I’m about ready to upchuck the big salad all over the dog laying on the floor in front of me. Is it laying or is she lying on the ground? Lieing? No, not the last one for sure.
SportsCenter is making me nauseous because they’ve talked about LeBron James and the NBA for about 89% of this show. Who the fuck cares about the NBA during the season, let alone when it’s the off season? Come on, fellas, let’s talk about soccer or competitive eating or bowling or watching the grass grow, anything but the NBA.
These home made salads are pretty good (you’re totally thinking, “fuck Don, enough with the salads already, aren’t you?), they’re a take on my favorite salad, which come from a chain joint in St. Louis called The Pasta House. The Italian in me is ashamed, but hey, a heart, er stomach, loves what it loves.
The problem with eating out, aside from having negative zeroteen dollars to spend on dinner out, is that this is how I spend most of my restaurant experience these days.
Hmmm, I just recalled that I bitched about this here already, so I’ll digress.
The boys and I have all become fond of getting our hair cut together. It’s our thing now, so whenever I get our coupons, we’re off to whichever discount hair joint is the cheapest. This week, it was Fantastic Sam’s, which is totally fantastic, if you don’t give two shits what you look like when you leave, like me. I’m middle aged and married, who do I have to impress, right?
Gman asked for a Mohawk when the woman asked me how to cut his hair. A Mohawk? I didn’t even know he knew what a Mohawk was, but hey, whatever he wants is fine with me. It’s his head. Cool, on the other hand, is very conservative with everything, ESPECIALLY his hair cut. He wants no part of any zaniness. He’s like an 80 year old man in a five year old’s body.
They both look pretty good, mustard stains aside, right? I don’t know what Gman is doing fondling his brother, so don’t ask.
Oh, Jojo got a hair cut too!
That’s actually on the way to the groomer now that I look at it. Poor dog is 13 years old so I always worry that every car ride will be her last, so I take a picture every time. Is that morbid? Whatever.
I’m waiting to hear whether or not I get moved at work again, so there’s that. Somebody told me that it was going to happen, but that was nearly a month ago so I’m not holding my breath. I don’t want to jinx it, so I’ll not say anything more. Suffice to say, should it happen, I’ll let all 23 of you peeps know all about it. It’s not any more money than I make now though, so don’t be soliciting me or sending your kids to my house with cookies or whatever. I’ll still be broke, just broke and working more regular hours again.
Do you ever wish you could step out of your body and hang out with yourself because you’re so cool and fun and awesome?
Oh, me neither then, duh.
But I am totally fun and I’m jealous of everyone who gets to hang out with me.
Look how much fun Gman is having. His face says, “WOW, THIS GUY IS FUN AS FUCK!”
Well crap, I don’t have any beer in the fridge so there’s no reason for me to stay up any later.
I just remembered that I owe good blogger friend Mark a post, so I’ll tackle that one next time instead of typing this random bullshit.