Last hurricane season, America was hit by Charlie, Frances, Jeanne and Ivan. This year, we have been hit (thus far) by Arlene, Katrina, Ophelia and Rita. Clearly the 2005 hurricane season is all about the bitches.
I actually found a TV show that I like. It’s called, “My Name is Earl.” And it features lots of cool stuff: karma, hot chicks, criminal activity and drinking. It’s pretty funny and different from most sitcoms. Also, Jason Lee does such a half-assed good job that he manages to be horrible and awesome in the same twenty two minutes. There were moments when I was totally into the character of Earl and then Lee slipped up and lost his white trash accent and it made me think, “Hey, that’s Jason Lee. I totally forgot he was in this.”
The highest rated quarterback in the NFL right now is Trent Dilfer. As one of the many Buccaneers fans who gave himself a concussion pounding his head on the bar while watching that loser win a Super Bowl ring, I just have to say that it can’t last, it won’t last and if it does last, then I will personally drive to Cleveland, grab him by the lapels and scream, “What took you so long?” into his pale, stubble-coated face.
I would like to start a Hurricane relief effort for PIC blogger, E. Mike Tuckerson, who will most likely have to evacuate again (this time from Houston). Everyone, pool your money together and get this man some inebriants. I think he prefers Maker’s. I even have a slogan: George Bush doesn’t care about Tuckerson’s buzz.
And finally, because this is one of those entries where I hit fluidity and organization in the back of their heads with empty beer cans, I leave you with the following, which I overheard some chick say at The Local Pub last night:
“Like, I totally love kissing girls, but I couldn’t kiss you, Jen. We’re just too good of friends.”