I Gave Away my Entire Lifesavings and Two Family Members for that Potato Chip with Jesus' Face On It

I'm feeling especially guilty, too, because I waited about four seconds before I ate it.

Right now I'm listening to the only good song by Katrina and the Waves, "Walking on Sunshine," neglecting to watch the State of the Union address but willing to record it so I can watch it over the weekend, and drawing a hot bath. Seriously, don't judge me--I'm so sore from my first and very intense short distance track practice that I have trouble walking up and down the stairs. Don't even get me started on how difficult masturbating is either. We sprinted diagonally across the football field, jogged across the short way, and then sprinted back across the field. We did that eight times. We then did drills, helped to set up the mats for pole vaulting, and then did eight more sprints across the football field before stretching. By the way, my coach's definition of stretching involves tugging on whatever feels tight for a couple seconds and then jogging over to the gas station to buy him a pack of cigarettes. I think I deserve a nice bubble bath, don't you think?

Did I tell you guys that I went to the Blue Man Group over the weekend? I don't think so, but you would know if you all were dutiful readers of The Chin Scratcher. (Just kidding--don't read that blog. It's insufferable.) But honestly, the Blue Man Group was totally amazing. Astounding. I would tell you about it, but that would make it lame. There was this one part where they had this really long camera tube that they shoved down a guy's throat, and they showed the inside of his throat on the big screen. The whole thing was drifting a bit from performance art and borderlining pagan sun-worship ritual.

Here's a question probably all of you have asked yourselves: why do people always answer "Good" when people ask "How are you?" even though it's rarely just as simple as "good"? It reminds me of when my family and I were driving back from Texas this year on New Years' Day. We stopped by Sonic for a quick lunch before we got to the airport. When the waitress delivered the food to our car, my mom asked, "How are you?"

The woman responded, "Okay, I guess. Life is pretty crazy. I'm really stressed out right now."

Mom just said she was sorry to hear that, gave her the cash, took the food, and wished her a Happy New Year. The woman responded, "Happy New Year? I hope so. Probably not, though."

I interrupt this post to announce that apparently our house is without warm water and my muscles have no chance of loosening up before practice tomorrow unless I drive to the nearest massage clinic and sign up for a massage with an expert named Leslie who sounds like a hot chick with dimples and red hair but turns out to be a 6'2 man named Leslie, which turns out to be a moderately common boys' name in some parts of the country.

Now I'm listening to the Kinks again and I've just noticed that the main guy has a really enormous gap between his front two teeth. People pay to have teeth like that. Well, not people. Beavers. Beavers do.

The last poll has done closed up. I'm really sorry to those of you who do find me annoying, and I hope you can be frank with me about how I can change. Better yet, vote on the new poll about your taste in music/adulterers, and just remember that your answer says a lot about you.

Let me just conclude by saying that I love all of you so much and each and every one of you means so much to me and I hope you never leave me! Your comments make me so happy and without all of you I'd probably still be watching "The Secret Life of the American Teenager" and eating peanut butter out of the jar on a spoon every Friday night. Which already sounds tempting...so you better keep reading!

Cheers,
That Blond Guy