I'm not one to get all fuzzy about shit, but when you're "bi-polar" you got to grab the high moments cause you know that daydreams about dead babies, shooting yourself in the face or getting run down by a truck are right around the corner. So Robots, smile if your creator gave you an attractive face otherwise go ahead and shoot it.
Sun + Warmth + Skin = Serotonin. Don't it feel good! yeah right Being outside doesn't hurt so much. Riding a bike to work wakes you up with a quickness. TV is just a bad idea. Come on, get out there and spark up a jibber. Today might be the only bearable day all year.
Q-Dogg and I (and perhaps the HonkeyCracker) start softball this week for the M.I.T. "Bibliotechs." We get to play against teams like the "Atom Smashers" and the "Toxic Waste." Last year I played softball for my opressive employer and it blew goats. We had one dickwad whose only hope in life was to coach co-ed non-profit softball. I was constantly placed second to last in the lineup and overheard such comments as "well, Klutch is here, we might as well play him."
Hello people, I hit safely in every fucking at bat in every game we played. I was not "out" once in over seven games. All this with an injury to my Quad. I am a fucking softball prodigy. WTF!!!!!
So, underapprecieated, I have decided to ally myself with the MIT Bibliotechs. Perhaps they will not be blind to my prowess.
I need to buy some new athletic pants and buy Q-Dogg a glove. Last years athletic pants gave me crotch-rot so this year I think I will go with more of a wind-pant than one of the "sweat" variety.
Also, and most importantly, my fingers that have been itching for months will finally be scratched as we go to the Casino this weekend for HonkeyCracker's birthday:
hey honkey, it's your birfday we gonna party like it's your birfday . . .
join us if you can. E-mail me at Klutchxls if you want the deets. You can watch me bank mad Cream at the roulette table. And we might dress up.
Disaster will probably strike tomorrow so grab today. It's all you got.