George Carlin died.
Although I really appreciated his work in the more adult aspect of entertaining, I think my most important memories of him are as the tiny Mr. Conductor that lived inside the mural at Shining Time Station. That show pretty much rocked my socks back in 1989.
This weekend I was reunited with Laura and her ridiculously gorgeous and well-adjusted baby Rory and it was awesome! It makes me sad that they live so far away.
Earlier today I perused the webbernet to see my options for jobs that are more fun, and it really seems like there aren't that many. Why do I have to be so lazy? I just want a job where I don't have to work that much -- WTF?
Finally, I joined the YMCA on Sunday, and I even bought socks (I did not have a single, non-argyle pair) and worked out and everything!
Mondays are lame.
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