I've eaten so many donuts, breakfast rolls and cookies today that I just skipped lunch because I'm not hungry. I'm still eating all this crap though. Maybe I should skip dinner too. Probably not--I normally just have a salad and a beer anyway.

Did I do ten things this week?

Hell no! That would be stressful.

Did I do eight?

Are you calling me lazy? I do more than that.

Everyone knows I do exactly nine things every week and if you're sweet enough to care, you can read about them in the Weekly Wrapup:

1. Tromped around the Souf side of Chicago in the cold and wet screaming my fool head off and called it fun.
2. Got accuasted by a random crazy lady while walking in the Belmont Blue Line station.
3. Didn't eat nearly as much pizza as I usually do.
4. Made the internet a more informative place.
5. Cut my finger on a computer.
6. six six
7. Explained that it's out of my hands and we just have to wait for the millionth time.
8. Didn't get my payched on time again, damnit.
9. Considered staying home for a quiet evening.

So that's that. I'm out of here.

I really haven't posted much this week. Tough luck for you.

It was warm enough outside that I could have sat in the park and read a book today but I forgot to bring it. Instead, I find myself sitting in the warm glow of dual computer monitors. I can live w/ this but it doesn't exactly thrill me to pieces.

I got vegetable fried rice for lunch--a huge thing for under two dollars. What this means is that I will be bringing in a bottle of Siracha hot sauce to put on it and consuming it three times a week. The Atkins diet can be damned for all I care.

Well--here I am. I keep eating cookies so I'm not hungry yet I still crave the escape lunch provides. In order to pass time, I will do a little thing I like to call the Weekly Wrapup:

1. Found a letter in my mailbox.
2. Was tickled nearly to death.
3. Stayed late.
4. Spent way too much money on too small amount of beer.
5. Popped open something special.
6. six six
7. Covered some Hungarian oak beans w/ Old Overholt.
8. Got a good idea.
9. Considered doing both batches.

Yep. Lots of stuff going on but never more than my nine things. That would be too stressful for this suburban boy.

I am a powerful man. This is known. What you don't know about me is that I really like watching documentaries on surfing. Or, maybe you do.

I saw a dude w/ the biggest head today. Well--it wasn't so much huge as it was completely disproportionate to his body--and not in that midget kind of way either. He had the head of a hugely fat man on a completely normal body. I figure he must be some sort of mutant or cartoon carachter. Maybe he just had a goiter. I don't know. It could be a lot of things and I'm not in the right state of mind to speculate.

To top it off, he had a little square of surgical guaze right on the cener of his forehead, apparently from a failed operation to deflate his head.

There are something along the lines of a thousand cookies in my office at all times. None of them are for me to eat. As far as I can tell, that's just about the worst trait a cookie can have.

They people get what they deserve. The Weekly Wrapup:

1. Read a book while some homeless guy went on and on thanking me for my help and that I might need his help someday.
2. Drank a couple beers.
3. Rocked out in fullness.
4. Brewed a rye beer.
5. Shaved at least a couple times.
6. six six
7. Probably disappointed someone in some way or another.
8. Talked incessantly about Buick Grand Nationals
9. Considered using a bit or crystal malt.

There you have it. That's all I did. As you know, my personal philosophy is to do exactly nine things every week to prevent boredom w/o being stressed.

I just overheard a conversation where somebody said, "I'm gonna get Frank to help me set up my email at home." This is always bad news. Some very basic concepts of electronic communication are lost on them. I can promise you the following things will happen:

There will be at least two freakouts and I will get at least two phone calls here, at least one of which will come about five minutes before I'm about to leave and consist of fifteen minutes of them explaining their problem in utter flabergasted confusion and one minute of me asking for the information I really need (none of which I have gotten in the first fifteen minutes) and telling them what to do.

They will be mad that their email that's already been downloaded and deleter off the server from the computer in their office won't be available to them at home w/o forewarding it to themselves. In some weird, way they blame me and you can tell.

After much ado, their email will work both at home and at work and they will be annoyingly gushing in their thanks. To me the only thanks that counts looks and tastes exactly like a vegetarian burrito.

I wish I could take lunch more than once a day. Three times would be about ideal.

I haven't washed my hair in three days. I look like a rock god.

A favorite pastime of my coworkers is to send me a piece of information and then ask for it back a few days later. My current means of dealing w/ this is to find the email in which they sent me whatever spreadsheet it is that they need and then foreword it back to them. (If you just hit reply, the attached file isn't sent.) Someday, they will learn to use the search function built into Windows and I will be out of a job. This will happen sometime after my retirement or never.

The vast majority of the activity on my blog comes in the middle of the week. The question I pose to you is: What does this mean?

I cannot wait to go to lunch.

You're very lucky I stil write this while hungover. The Weekly Wrapup:

1. Struggled against mericless hellions in my fight to get out of bed.
2. Reeked of booze.
3. Hurt really, really bad.
4. Winced.
5. Chugged water
6. six six
7. Got to work late.
8. Drank coffee.
9. Considered leaving work early.

So.. yeah, I kinda have a one track mind today.

The thing I dread most in life is the moment where they tell me I shouldn't leave early from work every day. However, I can see nothing happening that would provide an impetus for such an event. This pleases me greatly despite my fear.

I finally bought the stuff to fix and upgrade my computer. This is gonna be so sweet. Pics coming soon. Untill then, feel free to look at my mash:


This is my mash.

THE HEART IS HERE

So reads the wall at my office this week. Needless to say, I am furious about this development. I consider handguns a viable option at this point. However, I can never be sure of who to shoot and this is where my dilemma lies: if I shoot the wrong person first, I might run out of ammo before I get to the right person.

Though I cannot be certain of the exact date of my birth, I am fairly sure I'm bored right now. What this means is I'm going to type here for a few moments to give my mind a break from thinking about nothing. Strangely, thinking about nothing strains the human mind more than almost all other subjects combined.

I got squashed on the train yesterday. The fault was not my own but that of an obese gentleman.

Upon entering the train, I found my only seating option was on the left of a woman on the bad end of moderately overweight. Not being particularly considerate, she made no effort to accommodate my seating and thus caused me a small amount of discomfort--no big deal. I do admit to feeling relieved to some small extent when the time came for her to exit.

Of course, goods things never last. An abnormally obese gentleman found occupation as her replacement. Like Baby Huey, he crushed me, showing no signs of remorse and, indeed, no signs even that he was aware of my unenviable position. I spend the remainder of the trip conserving breath so that I might squeal loud enough for him to hear me when the time came for me to depart in the hopes that he might shift his mammoth girth enough to allow me to do so.

I didn't do nine things last week so obviously I could not come up w/ a Weekly Wrapup. I know that most of you have been stunned and confused by this development but rest assured there will be a Weekly Wrapup at then end of this week. That is if you're still able to read.

I have a titanium spork. Isn't that sweet?