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Help Me Help Myself Find Another Job

Not sure what I signed up for ya’ll. The hours, they’re killin’ me. This ain’t the 11-3 pony show I’ve become accustomed to. Also, everyone talks funny. And let's face it, the commute is a bitch. 11,000 miles roundtrip? Fu*k that. My ass wasn't engineered to take such a beating.

We’re going back again tomorrow kids. I can’t hang. I. Just. Can’t. Hang.

However, in keeping with tradition, I’m taking you with me.

So to speak.

. . .

At this point, I’d like to dedicate the remainder of this disaster to ACW. If you two haven’t met, stop by and give him a hug. He just got married and could use some touchy touchy.

This is where I spent my weekend. There was White Castle too, but my bowels haven't the energy nor the enzymes to digest all of the evidence and excrete the series of posts required to adaquetly pay tribute to the event.



Anyway, I thought of you. They don't have bodies, but really, what can't you do without a body? I mean, besides play tennis.

Now go to town, kiddo.