Hi-O

Where are we going captain?

To goddamn hammeredville. Full speed ahead, put on your fucking parka.

Aye aye captain.



Let me hose the donkey first off by saying the past few weeks didn't exactly go as I dictated to my cranial secretary on my flight plan. First off, the Pats fell down, punched themselves in the scrote and then managed to eat a giant collective barrel of dicks. That did not start the time period off kindly. Then of course I had to go to work where everyone probably couldn't fucking wait to come tell me "oh I'm so sorry your favorite football team sucked the big one, that must suck." No, it felt like I'd been cast in a my little pony ad and I giant fucking rainbow bathed me in an amazing glow of awesomeness. And then Jessica Biel proposed to me because I'm obviously the best choice in the man-meat olympics. Except that's not what happened. What really happened is I turned off my TV before the end of the fourth quarter, because the Pats decided to save their absolute worst game for the superbowl. If it was somehow possible to go 1-15 in the regular season, and still make the playoffs and win the superbowl, I probably would've taken that over all this 18-1 horseshit that's going on right now.

Ok, for a second I have something positive to say. I know that floors the shit out of all of you like there's a sale at Lowes with free install. But let me say something. The Logitech Harmony remote is fucking amazing. Now, you might ask yourself, how is a remote control amazing? Let me tell you something, I am a huge fan of efficiency. Now some might interpret that as me being hard-working. That, of course, is a lie. I'm just really fucking lazy. So efficiency is my middle maiden name before I married into the alcoholics family. All I have to do is push one button and all my shit turns on and goes to the right input. It's really quite incredible. When I think back on it I wonder, is the small effort of going from controller to controller and pushing a few buttons really worth 100 dollars? And then the other part of my brain knees the first part in it's proverbial abdomen, and says "fuck yes it is." That's basically where the argument stops. This is me with my remote.



Except I'm not a horse. Probably.

I don't want to talk anymore. That is all you get.