Rumor has it that the Major League Baseball package, which allows cable subscribers to watch pretty much every major league game they want (except on Sunday, because that day belongs to Fox Sports and God), will soon be only available from DirecTV and not from my local cable provider. On a related note, I recently sent Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig a frozen pile of shit in a bowl of vomit. (I don't own DirecTV, in case you were stupid?I mean, curious. Yeah, that's it. Curious.)

To everyone who's worried about the book I wrote: It is completed. It is roughly 260 pages, features two essays, one long story and over a hundred pages of never-before read snippets. So far, the working title is “The Snippets and the Impure Tour.” I have not yet looked into self-publishing as I am waiting to receive a callback from an agent. If I have not acquired an agent by March 1st, I will be self-publishing. I thank you all for your patience and apologize for not having a joke here. By the way, if anyone out there knows a good literary agent who returns unsolicited calls, please let me know.

The overnight low here in Tampa is below freezing tonight. As per the requirements of the area, all pets, sensitive plants and people over seventy years old must be brought inside, unless they're annoying or ugly. Then all bets are off.

My friend Ben recently returned from Hawaii, where he noticed that Waikiki prostitutes all wear the same kind of plastic high-heeled shoes. “I guess,” Ben told me, “since so many women already dress like whores, the Waikiki girls need some way to differentiate themselves.” That's awesome.

Fact I am least proud of about myself: I leave an average of 2.3 beers per month in my freezer. This represents roughly one percent of all the beer I drink in a month. That's not only wasteful and stupid, it's frozen beer. Where I'm from, that's practically a sin. Sorry, God.

How fucked up is it that right after I typed the word “beer” in the above paragraph, I immediately went to the fridge and grabbed one?

A stripper recently told me that she would give me a free lap dance on my birthday. I told her that my birthday was Christmas and her club would be closed then. She gave me a free lap dance anyway. I thought that was so nice of her that I paid her for the lap dance. The lesson here: I'm a sap.

This is my 418th post. Just one more before 420.

And finally, since logic and fluidity are angrily planning a trip to visit Bud Selig, I leave you with the following, which a girl named Tammy (why not?) said:

“I love the smell of bacon frying more than I enjoy eating it. I wish ‘frying bacon' was a cologne. I could honestly fuck that smell.”


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