Wednesday Work Robots and Missing Immaturity (4/25/18)

OUR WORLD:

Wednesday is such a day for adults. The midpoint of the weekday grind is the exact point where you don’t know where or who you really are anymore; you’re just the person who puts on the least wrinkled shirt in your closet and walks your dog before disappearing into a computer screen for 9 hours (9, not 8, because you’re a GOOD WORKER BEE!) Throughout the day, some people will make hump day jokes because of that talking-camel commercial and you’ll kinda chuckle because the word “hump” is funny. But, all you really want to do is not talk to ANYONE and just blackout until late Thursday afternoon when Friday’s rays of sunshine begin to poke through your office blinds.

This grind is such a mature mindset. I remember coming out of college and trying to treat every night like Friday because “I like to have fun!” The thought of basically transforming myself into a work-robot during the week was too sobering for Jimmy IT’S ALWAYS GOOD TIMES. And while this maturing is good for the health of my brain and body, I’ll have instances where I daydream about getting to be immature again. Don’t you? Like, don’t you just want to take your shirt off in the middle of your office sometimes and run out while screaming “I’M FREE!!!” You’re not gonna do it, but it’s funny to think about. Thinking about EXPLOSIONS of immaturity is what gets me through some of life’s most mundane and scary situations/settings; and I think if you’re not partaking in this exercise as of yet, it might help you as well. So today, I’d like to start a new Wednesday tradition on Jimmyschair and write about “places where you really want to act more immature than is socially acceptable”:

The Dentist Office:

You probably haven’t gone in over 3 years and it’s getting to the point where you’ve convinced yourself that “something real bad is happening.” I went for the first time in like 5 years a couple months ago (not to brag) and was POSITIVE the dentist was going to take one look at me before calling a Priest to read me my last rights. (Spoiler alert: I’m still alive and it wasn’t that bad). But your imagination runs WILD to the point where you start contemplating “what if I just never went to the dentist again? People in olden times didn’t go and they seem to be doing okay in most of the movies I’ve seen them in.” That is until you throw a pile of almonds in your stink-trap of a mouth, bite down and feel like an a-bomb went off inside your back molar. The “oh fuck, something’s really wrong in my mouth” is a top 1 worst feeling in life.

So you finally make an appointment, but you’re really hoping that an alien bomber plane will just blow up the world before you actually have to go. But that never happens because you have bad luck, so you go to the dentist and have to be MATURE and pretend like you’re not that scared. Wouldn’t it be great to be immature here? Like, just walk into the dentist office crying. Go up to the receptionist wildly shaking your head and weeping “I don’t wanna go! I don’t wanna go!” Then when the dentist emerges with his scary surgical mask, you literally SCREAM BLOODY MURDER “GET AWAY FROM ME! NO! NO! HELP! MOM HELP!!!!” The dentist would have to try to calm you down by speaking on a sweet voice and assuring you that “everything is gonna be okay.” But you still wouldn’t totally believe him as you sat down in that murder-chair.

Then they’d turn the lamp on and ask you to open your mouth, but since you’re still in immature-mode you just refuse to. The dentist’s assistant would kneel down next to you and maybe rub your shoulder a little to calm you down (wouldn’t that be nice as an adult? Guess what, kids aren’t the only ones scared of the dentist!) So then finally, after being talked to like a baby, you’d open your mouth a little and they could begin to clean your teeth. It’s not bad at first, but then they start scraping and you LOSE IT again. This time, it’s a full-on “get away from me!”-fit to the point that they have to konk you on the head with a mallet to continue the cleaning. I don’t know about you, but if my dentist appointment included being knocked out cold by a mallet-to-the-dome, I’d consider that a win for the mere fact that I wouldn’t have to hear all the drilling noises.

MY WORLD:

I’m not gonna lie guys, I am supes biz at work (cute way of saying I’ve thought about crying on a semi-regular basis over the past few weeks). So that’s my world right now: being super busy, feeling bad that my dog is alone for way too long during the day and trying to cool it with the “I worked hard today, so I deserve to binge on candy tonight.”

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Did you think I was kidding when I said I was about to go on a big Death Cab for Cutie kick?

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When “Chicago Fire” is filming two blocks away from your apartment building and, therefore, blocking off 2 streets worth of parking. So when you get home at night, there is no parking left and you have to park like 9 blocks away on a street known for muggings. I’ve never watched this show and, if you do, I’d ask that you please stop. Thank you for your service.

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

Cool thing happened to me last night, I forgot to bet on Milwaukee until midway through the first half. Which means that I got them at (+11.5) and they covered! San Antonio also covered, so I went 2 for 3 last night! This parlay kid could use one hitting, but at least I’m not on some big smelly losing streak or something. Got a bunch of games going tonight, and here’s what I’m thinking as of now: Jazz, Wizards, Rockets, and Bucks all against the spread. Will my thinking change between now and gametime? Quite possibly.

(My account currently at $182.80)

K bye.

Being Single Stunk and Haircut Anarchy (4/24/18)

OUR WORLD:

The VP of Ops was out of town most of last week, got back on Sunday and left again this morning for the next 3 days. I have officially left the “being alone is fun!” phase of her being gone, and entered the “well, who’s gonna listen to me bitch about my day?” phase of missing her. Call me a romantic, but getting to whine about relatively benign daily happenings to someone who is GUARANTEED to agree with you is one of the main advantages of being married. Actually, part of my vows alluded to this when I wrote: “I promise never to spare you a detail of the times when an older woman will inadvertently cut me off in traffic. I promise to assign said woman some malicious motive that I fully expect you to agree with when I recount the story to you later that night.” Guys, I’m like so kidding about having written vows–we’re not those kinda’ weirdos. It’s called a joke!

Which is a long winded way of me saying that I do not miss being single. For those who are good at it, congratulations; you won’t enjoy the rest of today’s “Our World”. You live in a world that I am not a part of, if you’re good at being single. For me, and I believe many of us, the world of being single sucks, and here are the parts that suck the most:

Feeling compelled to talk to strangers at bars: Obviously, I can only speak to this from a guy’s perspective, but going to bars while single and hoping to meet a future LOVAH! is a terrifying prospect. What happens is you stand around with your friends trying to not look like you’re scoping everyone out, but you are and it’s SUPER obvious when you keep missing the straw to your vodka soda (you are watching cals BIG TIME when single). There will be the mega babes who are WAY out of your league, but you’ll spend about 9 minutes trying to come up with a snappy one-liner to level the playing field. Something along the lines of “hey…uh…getting to date you would make my dad real proud of me.” Unfortunately, Babe-a-tron 5000 doesn’t know how reluctant your dad is to offer praise, so that’s gonna be a swing and a miss.

What’ll happen most of the time, is that you’ll just stand around your dumb friends, not approaching ANYONE of the opposite sex. Instead, opting to just get progressively drunker until somebody gets a text from a girl they know that is at another bar. “She have friends?!?!? HAS TO, RIGHT?!?” Is what you’ll be thinking, but you’ve gotta play it cool, so you’ll act like “sure, guess I’ll go with you.” Then you’ll get to the next bar, realize that the girl does have friends, but those friends are not impressed with sarcasm OR outfits from Old Navy’s Spring, 2011 collection. It’s okay, though, because by this time you’re drunk-STARVING and ready to eat your feelings away. THEIR LOSS!

Having to explain to your grandparents why you’re not married with kids yet: I swear to god, once you hit the age of 22, all grandparents expect you to be married with a kid on the way. Old days were a wild time, during which, I guess everyone was married with 3 kids and a big house by the time they were able to rent a car? That’s the way they friggin’ act at least. Every family dinner when you’re single will include the “why are you still single?”-portion of the meal with your grandparents quizzing you on what exactly is going wrong. It’ll usually be a potential critique wrapped in a compliment, like: “You’re a handsome, smart kid, you should have no problem finding someone.” Unfortunately, when you’re single and, therefore insecure, that sounds more like: “The problem must be your personality.” Seriously, how are you supposed to respond to that? “Well thanks Grandpa, but I do have problems finding someone because I’m now out of college and approaching women in bars, or grocery stores, or gyms makes me so scared that I literally think about KILLING MYSELF!” WARNING: Grandparents do not find humor in suicide jokes.

Playing the 3rd Wheel: The main reason that playing the third wheel sucks is that you’re almost like the unpaid entertainment for the couple that night. I always felt the need to go a little harder, be a little funnier, be a little extra-er when I was the third wheel. Like, the couple had to be thinking: “if Jimmy bores us at any point in the night, we can just bail.” Your couple friends will ALWAYS assure you that “you’re NOT the third wheel,” but…uh…you are because you’re the third person there and your pants are a little tighter than normal because you ate a big sandwich for lunch so you feel ROUND, LIKE A WHEEL!

Then will come the part of the night where you’ll kinda’ glance at someone across the bar and the couple you’re with will see this, and convince you that you NEED to approach this person. Funny how everyone in a relationship IMMEDIATELY forgets how much of a no-go that proposition is when you’re single. They’ll give you a “what’s the worst that could happen?” or “I think she just looked at you, too.” They’re lying. Trust me, they’re lying about this 100% of the time. All they want is some free entertainment; getting to watch someone strike out with a potential mate IN PERSON is something I would pay to see. In fact, there should be a viewing section at the biggest single bars in the city. Wouldn’t you pay to go to one of these massive, DJ-booth, single meat markets, and sit in like in the security camera room? They could have a charismatic storyteller, narrating the pick-up attempts going on throughout the club, and you could just watch it and be thankful that it’s no longer you as the star of this horror-show? There really should be a channel called “Single People in a Club” which just shows security-cam footage of clubs around the country on Friday and Saturday nights. I’d vote for someone like Hannibal Burress to narrate the scenes (I really wanted to say Louis C.K. for the narrator but…like…he can’t come back yet, huh? We sure? Okay. Okay!)

MY WORLD:

I know today is supposed to be the “A Time I Made Myself Laugh By Making The VP of Ops Mad or Uncomfortable”, but since I’m not an ABSOLUTE monster with endless stories of me pissing off my wife, I’m going to write about the haircut I got on Sunday. (Calm down! Calm down! YOU CAN’T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT!)

As you know by now, I get my hair cut at a salon because I am a fancy boy who likes STYLE! Or, mostly because I want to get my head massaged by a professional head massager person. So I’ve been going to this hip place called “Fringe” for the past couple years where I may be the only male client. (I’m sure this isn’t true, but anytime I’m in there, I’m the only guy there so…maybe it is true? YOU DON’T KNOW!) Now, I only get my haircut like 2 to 3 times a year because I’m lazy and try to convince myself that I can pull off long hair a couple times throughout the year. Normally, around like month 3 post-haircut The VP of Ops will toss a “your hair!” my way one morning when I wake up with especially sexy bed head (sexy or, as The VP would put it “gross and not sexy in the least). So I’ll wait another few weeks before the VPs jabs start to actually hurt and then, finally, make an appointment.

For the past 2-3 years I had been getting my haircut by this girl named Tori at Fringe. She was good, not great, but whatever, I wasn’t that picky. Until last time when Tori wasn’t available, but it being a hair-emergency, so I just went with whoever was available. A woman named Leah was assigned to my mangy head, and lemme tell ya’, WE CONNECTED! She gave a top-notch head massage while washing my hair (during which I made a joke about how close to purring I was that she took in stride and even gave me a courtesy laugh for!) She then gave me a killer haircut and was just a DELIGHT to converse with. Not too much talking, but enough that I didn’t feel drown in any awkward silences. I left thinking about two words in regards to Tori: SHE GONE!

After wearing a hat for most of the past 2 months, I finally made a second appointment with Leah this past Sunday. Unfortunately, I did not plan ahead and ask if Tori was going to be there. So when I walked in to “Fringe” and Tori was sitting at the reception desk, I had to make a split-second decision. “Hey!!! Our system is down, so I didn’t know you were coming in!” said an excited Tori. To which I responded, “Yeah, my name is Jimmy and I’m here for a 12:30 with Leah.” My split second decision was to act like I had no idea who Tori was. I barely made eye contact with her as she responded: “Oh, okay…yeah, I didn’t know who you were with.” It’s one of the coldest, meanest things I think I’ve ever done.

She went and got Leah, and a funny thing happened; I didn’t feel a thing. I was expecting to be knocked over with a wave of guilt but, instead, I felt nothing. It was exhilarating in the darkest of ways. This must be what the Joker felt the first time he upset the established order. As I passed Tori on my way to get my hair washed, I almost wanted to whisper in her ear “I’m an agent of chaos.”

Does this mean that Joker Jimmy is a newly discovered side of my personality worth exploring further? That the weird-astrology people were right when they take about Gemini’s having split personalities? Quite possibly. Tori’s heartbreak at not getting to cut a relative stranger’s hair (me) was a sacrifice necessary for me to find my inner darkness. A darkness that could lead to me never settling on one hair-cutter person for fear of an awkward interaction. A darkness that could lead me to finding the perfect hair-cutter person; one who would be able to give me the volume and shape necessary to hide my thinning crown. A darkness that could put an end to me having to use a blow-dryer. As Tori watched Leah cut my hair from afar, she must have felt the thing about chaos…fear. And maybe that fear that she’s not good enough, will drive her to become a better hair-cutter person. You’re welcome, Tori.

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Me in the salon on Sunday…

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Anyone watch Ariana on “Vanderpump Rules” last night? She got mad at Tom for leaving to hang out with Jax after the break-up because she wants Tom to “commit” to her being first in her life. HOWEVER, she still refuses to even consider marrying Tom. Get out Ariana, nobody likes you.

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

Well, Russ Westbrook proved that I’m stupid. That’s fun. Thankfully, I did also bet on Houston last night, so it wasn’t a total wash. For tonight, I like Miami (+10), the Milwaukee moneyline and San Antonio (+11.5). 10 and 11.5 are a lot of points for teams that play hard and have proud vets, and Milwaukee seems to have figured out how to beat Boston. BANK OPEN?!?! YOU BETCHA!

(My account currently at $180.40)

K bye.

In Defense of Me and 90s Kid Stuff

MY WORLD:

Aside from treating my body like a dumpster, talking to Belle about how she’s the “numba one pretty gurrrlll” and sleeping in my clothes, there’s one final pastime I take part in whenever The VP of Ops leaves town; getting paranoid about what she’s saying about me to other people. You see, there’s this thing that some people take part in, where when they’re away from their significant other they complain about his/her faults and idiosyncrasies to their friends. Mind you, this is something that I have only HEARD ABOUT, for my friends and I keep our conversations strictly about sports, chicken wings and who our current man-crush is because IT’S A SAFE SPACE AND WE’RE PROGRESSIVE! (Chris Hemsworth and Eddie Vedder forever btw).

However, I am aware that The VP of Ops has sheep-like tendencies when surrounded by her poor influences of friends. While they’re complaining about the ragamuffins they’re with, in an effort to fit in and not be the “yo mans ain’t got it like my mans got it”-girl, she probably folds and joins the complain party. Knowing this, I would like to put forth some explanations and defenses for what she MAY be saying about me to her friends.

“He’s really moody”—First off, who isn’t? Right? I mean, I’m sure there are co-workers of yours that you think are super even keel, but they have to be kinda’ bitchy sometimes at home later…right? RIGHT?!?!? Uh, and you think The VP of Ops ISN’T moody? THINK AGAIN BUB! Last time I checked, yelling “I’m going to murder you” at your husband, just because he’s playing the “I’m not touching you”-game, is called a MOOD. Your honor, I would like to employ the “well, she is too”-defense.

Real talk, this cuts deep because I am POSITIVE that it’s true. For some reason, being “moody” has worse connotations than being a serial killer in my brain. (He’s moody?!?! Ugh, I don’t have time to deal with that! Yeah, my husband killed 4 people, but they were like SOOOOO annoying). Sometimes, I’ll catch myself mid-“if you don’t stop humming to yourself I’m going to blow my brains out” and immediately toss an apology the VPs way. The apology, though, normally sounds something like “I’m mad right now and I don’t know why and it’s not your fault so I’m…(through grit teeth)…so I’m sorry or whatever.” And if she brings up how I was moody the next day or another time when I’m in a GOOD mood? It’ll immediately piss me off and I’ll kinda’ deny it and will try my best to act not-mad…but, I’m fuckin’ mad about it. CAN’T THIS JUST BE OUR LITTLE SECRET? Oh, and to the girlfriend who I’m sure will mention something about me being a Gemini, just shove it. Astrology is for the birds, everyone knows this.

“He ALWAYS watches sports”—Well maybe if you had money riding on whether Mariska Whateverthefuckitay was going to catch the rapist in this episode of “Law & Order SVU”, I would support us watching that together. Gah fuhbid you join the team and root against Anthony Davis making the Blazers look like ABSOLUTE dog meat when I have the Blazers in my 8-team parlay. And also, if I watch sports all the time, how am I able to write such eloquent, insightful critiques of “Vanderpump Rules” and “Summer House”? Answer the question, please. I’ll wait…

This is the time when The VP of Ops will, most likely, bring up the fact that I have yet too hook up the second cable box in our bedroom. Did we move in last August? Yes, but there are a lot of wires and, like, I JUST DON’T WANNA! PLUS! PLUS! All she wants to watch is “Law & Order SVU” and that’s on netflix, so she can just watch it on our Apple TV in the bedroom. I would like to point out that I have mostly given up watching weekend pre-game shows (which are like catnip for guys ESPECIALLY during football season) so that we can watch that stupid fake pioneer woman cook some unhealthy bullshit for her “Cowboy Kids” on Food Network. (We did just find out that Pioneer Woman married into like one of the richest families in the country. When your family is worth in excess of $500 million-not kidding-it kinda’ puts a damper on the whole “just cookin’ for some farm boys” motif they’re going for. Just my 2 cents!) Are you going to bring that up to the girl crew? Do their guys ask what time Vanderpump Rules is on every Monday? Do their guys pause “Relation-shep” in the middle of the show just to talk to you about charismatic and likable Shep is? Didn’t think so.

“He’s bossy”—This one is similar to the “he’s moody” one in that it hurts, but the difference here is that I’m not bossy. I’m really not. This is not me trying to be funny by denying the truth…I’m just not bossy. Ask my boss at work if I’m bossy; bet he says I’m not.

Really though, I think I’m good at admitting faults (see, “He’s really moody” section) but this “bossy” label is one hundred percent due to the fact that The VP of Ops is an all-time horrible decision maker. When I say that, I’m not meaning it in the sense of making bad decisions like “she decides to get a neck tattoo when she’s drunk.” More like, she just WON’T make a decision. Every single Saturday that we both have free, I’ll ask her what she wants for lunch. “Where should we go? We can go wherever you want!”-I ask like the Magic Lunch Fairy. What this leads to is her telling me that she’s going to find a spot by looking through the Yelp! app on her phone. Then, about 13 minutes later, I’ll walk past her and see that she’s just scrolling through Instagram. “Oh yeah, I forgot”-and she’ll get back to the Yelp! app before asking me “well, what do you want?” no less than 39 times. So me putting an end to this misery and picking a restaurant that she told me she LOVED is, then, an example of me being bossy? In the words of an Italian television caricature “Getda’ Fug Outta Hee!”

OUR WORLD:

So Spotify has this thing now, I don’t know if it’s new or not, where they create a playlist for you called “Time Capsule”. Through the magic of the internet (and the government…) they somehow know what songs I liked when in my formative years. This morning I have heard some real treats like Matchbox Twenty (Rob Thomas can sing, so back off), “Sabotage” (the only Beastie Boys song I like), and “Rollin'” by Limp Bizkit (NOT the only Limp Bizkit song I like…WHAT?!?! IT’S GREAT WORKOUT MUSIC!)

This “Time Capsule” got me to thinking about the 90s and so I wanted to put together the beginning of a “Whatever Happened To __________?” list for my fellow kids of the 90s. Maybe I’ll continue this in future blogs…maybe not…I do what I want.

–Eve 6: Was “Inside Out” just too perfect of a song? I’m guessing they made that and were like “well, we can’t top that…so let’s just leave.”

–Drew Barrymore: She was in every single movie for a stretch there and now, where she at? Drew? Where you at, Drew? She is also maybe the best example of a celeb I can’t decide if I’m attracted to or not.

–The guy with tiny sunglasses in “The Professional”: I’ve actually never seen this movie, but feel like I have because I’ve seen the preview like a hundred times and CONSTANTLY think about watching it on nights I’m having trouble finding something. He seemed like a pretty solid character actor, though. Maybe? I don’t know.

–Jesse Camp: This is the guy who won MTVs first “Wanna Be a VJ” contest. Man, this dude was off-putting. Also, pretty provocative name for a TV show, in hindsight. I don’t want to look up what this dude is up to now because I fully expect it to be very depressing.

–Ben Savage from “Boy Meets World”: Again, not going to look up what he’s actually up to, but for very different reasons than Jesse Camp. I don’t want to look Ben Savage up because I’m rooting for him to be miserable now. When I was a grad film student at UCLA (are you impressed by debt? Well get a load of this!) I ran into Ben Savage hanging out in the office of my student housing building. He was like hanging out with people that worked there or something? Anyway, I recognized him and because it was a Friday night and I was probably 5 beers deep at this point, struck up a conversation with him. Unfortunately, he quickly turned this light conversation into a passionate monologue about how stupid and delusional he thinks people trying to break into the film/television biz are. He did not know that I was (am?) one of those people. He was so condescending and pompous, that I wish I would’ve told him that the GLARING FLAW with “Boy Meets World” was that Topanga was WAY too hot for him. Everyone agrees on this and if you see this cheesedick on the street, feel free to remind him of it. I’d appreciate it.

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I bet you’re like me and still know all the lyrics to this.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Punchable face times a billion.

Savage

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

Well, my NBA playoff parlay is basically dead now that the Blazers are down 0-3 to the Pelicans. Isn’t it great when you look back on a bet and it’s SUPER OBVIOUS that betting against Anthony Davis was a bad idea? I just love it. I placed a few bets last night and ended up going 2 for 4, so that’s not horrible at least. I’m guessing that Philly is becoming the favorite to come out of the East now, and so I think I may want to put some money on Cleveland. I can’t stand LeBron, but I just can’t see him going down to Ben Simmons and Embiid…not yet.

(My account currently at $207.73)

K bye.

What to Watch When You’re Sick and “Jimbo”

MY WORLD:

Today’s edition of “A Time I Made Myself Laugh By Making The VP of Ops Mad or Uncomfortable” is short and swe–nope, it’s actually not sweet at all (tricked you so bad). The VP of Ops gets very uncomfortable when attention is brought to her while in public and so, once I found this out, I, OBVIOUSLY, had to come up with a way to bring attention to her in public. So I began testing out some material when we’d walk to lunch or to the coffee shop or pharmacy, and I’d just yell out phrases like “stop farting!” or “that hurts!” or “I SAID NO!” She could see me take deep inhales as I prepared to yell and would immediately go into wide-eyed, clenched-jaw “don’t you dare”-mode. Can someone just tell her that if she didn’t react like that, that I’d stop doing stuff like this? (Actually don’t because I really really love doing these sorts of things.)

However, yelling out these phrases grew a little tired after a while, so I had to turn the heat up a bit. My solution was to create an alter-ego named “Jimbo”. Basically, Jimbo is the guy at your gym in the stringy tank-top who throws down the dumbbells when he’s done with them. (The VP hates Jimbo so much that I’m sure she’s shaking her head right now.) In case you haven’t met this particular “Jimbo”, he only comes out when The VP and I are in crowded public places. Normally, I’ll slow my walk a little bit to let The VP get ahead. She’ll turn around and see the “Jimbo” pose: me holding my arms out like I just BLASTED my biceps at a workout, so much so that I can no longer straighten my arms. This is when The VP says something like “please don’t”, to which “Jimbo” responds, in his meathead spitting-while-talking way, “Babe! What?”

“Oh Jesus” and The VP will try to speed walk away from what she knows is coming. “Jimbo” will follow like a muscle-bound villain in a horror movie, walking a little too slowly while swaying wildly from side to side. Hard to walk straight when you squat 700 pounds and everyone can’t stop talking about how big your quads are, nah’m sayin’? “Jimbo” loves to yell “Babe! Babe!” and never straighten his huge swollen arms or legs cuz he can’t bro, too sore from the curls and stair master. He always has a duckface or a snarl because he’s a bad boy and he wants you to know it. The VP knows it and DOES. NOT. LIKE. IT. But guess what? That’s the point with “Jimbo”, he doesn’t care what you think…unless you think his arms are small cuz they’re totally not (why else would he be walking like that?) And, honestly, why does The VP get so mad at a guy who really only says like three things: “Babe!” “Babe! Why you mad?!” and “Babe! I’m hungry!” It’s not fair, babe.

“Jimbo” hibernates in the winter because he can’t show off the monster veins in his arms but…the weather will warm. You hear that VP? The weather will warm…and “Jimbo” will return…

OUR WORLD:

I made a mistake yesterday when I stayed home sick and watched a bunch of HBO “Real Sports” episodes. That show takes way too much mental energy to watch and, usually, isn’t the most uplifting or engrossing show. (Hand up, complaining about how watching television requires too much energy is a pretty disgusting admission.) If you have never seen “Real Sports”, it’s basically “60 Minutes” with sports stories and Bryant Gumble dressing, like, actually really cool. He wears cool suits and lowers his glasses to look over notes and then says “so Bernie, how much money can a semi-professional snowboarder realistically expect to make?” The VP of Ops consistently makes “Bryant Gumble is kewt!” comments whenever she watches with me. I didn’t think it bothered me, but the fact that I just wrote that must mean something…

ANYWAY! Regretting my television choices in hindsight, got me to thinking about what shows are best to watch when you’re sick. These are not in order, so just chill out. CHILL OUT!

Catfish: It’s going to be on during the day and you’re going to be all alone so you can watch the shows you’d be embarrassed to watch otherwise. MTV’s “Catfish” is a PERFECT example of this kind of show. A few months back, The VP of Ops went out while I was painfully hungover (a cousin of Jimmy Sick is Jimmy Hangover. I actually prefer being sick cuz it wasn’t my fault). You know the kind of hangovers when you can’t even change the channel? Like, turning your TV on is all you can handle and then whatever’s on is what you’re gonna watch. The TV was on MTV and “Catfish” came on and I was all “I’m not going to like this show because I am a grown man adult who went to film school and has the taste of a—wait…this guy seems nice. This guy deserves love! SHE SOUNDS REAL! IS SHE NOT?!?!” The host guy, Nev, is SUPER likable and you’re always thinking that the person is going to end up being real and that the “potential catfish victim” is going to get to laugh in all his or her friends’ faces for EVER questioning their online romance. “Hey Ramona, remember when you said that Trevor sounded like a fake name?!?! WELL WOULD A FAKE NAME BE ABLE TO DO THIS?!?!” And then Trevor would come in doing a cool dance move like “The Dougie” and Ramona would be embarrassed and feel bad that she doubted her friends’ true love.

The Office: Simply put, this show is going to appear on just about every “best television show to watch when ________”-list that I come out with. It’s my favorite show of all-time. If Michael Scott can’t make you smile in between your kinda-sprints to the bathroom, then you should probably just call 911 cuz you’re in BIG trouble. Now, I will warn you not to watch the “Fun Run” episode if you’re feeling nauseous because seeing Andy’s nipples bleed is unsettling on multiple levels; specifically, the level between your stomach and your butthole. An episode you should make sure to watch if you’re sick, however, is “Phyllis’ Wedding”. Getting to watch Michael drag Phyllis’ Dad’s wheelchair down the aisle is chicken noodle soup.

Family Feud: I’ll always think of Louie (Luis? Louis? Looey?) Anderson as the host of this show, but I have to admit that I don’t hate Steve Harvey as the host now. This game show is perfect mushy food for your mushy brain. Nothing is going to be that funny or absurd, but it’s going to be generally enjoyable and will make the time go by fast. You’ll watch seven episodes in a row like it’s NOTHING and, mark my words, if someone took a spy-cam pic of you midway through episode three, you’d have a weird no-teeth smile on your clammy face. Another great thing about this show is that, in your head, you always do better than these dumb families. AND! You are always the family leader in your own brain. Like, how do they decide who stands closest to Steve? If it’s not the eldest sibling or one of the parents, you know this family has deep-rooted issues that should really only be addressed by licensed professionals. If I wasn’t elected “Family Captain”, I’d pout by raising my eyebrows and shaking my head and making a few “pshhh” noises. And don’t worry, you know I’d tell everyone “I didn’t even care.” I did care, though, and Stever Harvey woulda’ loved my zingers BUT NOOOOOOO! DAD HAD TO BE THE FAMILY CAPTAIN!

Supermarket Sweep/Guy’s Grocery Games: Gameshows that are set in grocery stores are in my wheelhouse and the reason I’m including both of these is because I’m not sure if “Supermarket Sweep” is still on-air. (Well, and cuz they’re both awesome and I normally see a box of saltines on the show and think to myself “hey, I’m allowed to eat all the crackers I want today cuz I’m sick!”) Do you remember that show? There was a host with a side part (I think?) and then people would get to run around a grocery store trying to grab items that would cost the most. Yeah…those are all the details I remember about that show so you know it had to be great. I legitimately do remember really enjoying the mindless joy associated with watching people run through an empty grocery store. Full disclosure, I love grocery shopping. I go through every aisle even if I KNOW FOR A FACT that I’m not getting anything in said aisle. (Except the shampoo aisle. Why is that here? Everyone knows you only get shampoo at Walgreens after telling yourself “I need to get shampoo” for like 4 days). Therefore, my bar for restaurant gameshows is super low. They could probably just have a show where they follow a couple as they walk and bicker down each aisle, and I would watch it. “Guys Grocery Games” is basically “Supermarket Sweep” meets “Chopped” and it has Guy as host so…GET YA DVRs READY Y’ALL!!!

The Dan Patrick Show: Watching a sportsradio show on television is sad UNLESS you’re sick so you can do what you want because people feel bad for you! This is another example of a slow-moving, mildly enjoyable few hours of television that requires minimal brain power. For some reason, since I’ve been a little kid, I have enjoyed watching radio shows on television when I’m sick. It’s almost like you get to see something that you’re not supposed to see–seeing what a radio show LOOKS like? You can’t do that! So what does that make you? That makes you a spy and you’ve always kinda’ wanted to be a spy but were too scared cuz of the guns and, you know, bad guys. But watching a radio show on TV seems like a pretty safe thing to do so LET’S LIVE OUT OUR FANTASIES GUYS!!!

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Oh my god, guys…there are full episodes of “Supermarket Sweep” on YouTube.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Why was this DOOF ever the host of “Family Feud”?

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MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

I did not gamble last night on any games in particular. That will probably change tonight, however, because there is NO WAY the Blazers are going down 0-2 at home. Steal your parents car, sell it, and put all the money you got from it on Portland.

(My account currently at $219.55)

K bye.

Stripper Prank and “Isle of Dogs” Review (4/11/18)

MY WORLD:

Last week, I put this picture up on Instagram of an all-male Australian stripper group (we’re dancers, Jimmy! We dance!) named “Thunder from Down Under”.

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At first blush, this seems like your typical Australian stripper group promo photo (you know, just like all the rest that we all see in our normal everyday lives…guys?…hello?) However, upon closer examination (I’m not blushing! Stop! Omg guys! Stop!), one of these no-doubt WILDLY TALENTED ENTERTAINERS, the second one from the right to be exact, bears a striking resemblance to…

ME! THAT DUDE’S FACE LOOKS LIKE ME! I understand you not picking this up at first glance on account of his rather scrawny arms and the lack of photogenic charisma that I exude in every photo…but, the face DEF kinda’ looks like me. (Nobody make a joke about how my jawline is nowhere near as chiseled as his…I’M WORKING ON IT!)

Why am I choosing to talk about this now? I’m glad you asked; these pictures were sent to me early on in my relationship with The VP of Ops and are the focal point of today’s edition of “A Time I Made Myself Laugh By Making The VP of Ops Mad or Uncomfortable”. Let’s take a trip back to the fall of 2013.

The VP of Ops and I were about 4 months into THE GREATEST LOVE SHE WILL EVER KNOW! Actually, she had just recently accepted the fact that we were dating and I was her “boyfriend” after 3.5 months of getting mad at me anytime I referred to our “relationship” (This is real btw…for like 3+ months she refused to admit that we were in a relationship. Stressful? THAT’S GONNA BE A YES, DAWG!) Anyway, it was a Friday night and I was chillin’ wit’ my main bros (cool guy talk) at the apartment we shared. The VP was at a friend of hers and I was definitely not secretly worried that she was hanging out with work-friend Mike because I was ALWAYS secure in our relationship. Did I LOVE that work-friend Mike wore a gold chain and talked about all the women he had been with? Look, I’m not here to talk about the past (fuck work-friend Mike…)

So there I am, hanging with my good friend Angry Dave (because he gets angry and it’s kinda funny but kinda serious at the same time!) and definitely not stewing about The VP and work-friend Mike. Probably after our third beer of the early evening (cool guy stuff cont.) I got a text OUT OF THE BLUE from an old friend-girl. Her name is something like Meghan or CouldNeverGetOverJimmyAndHisInfectiousPersonality, I can’t remember; but she texted me a picture…THE picture. She was in the Las Vegas airport and noticed a picture of hot guys so, naturally, she gave it a closer look. Upon said inspection, she noticed that one of the strapping Aussies looked like me and HAD to text me about it.

I showed Angry Dave the texts and after a few laughs and chest bumps and jamo shots (cool. guy. stuff. overload.) Angry Dave came up with a FANTASTIC idea. “You should send picture to The VP and just not say anything!” [EXPLOSION SOUNDS] However, because hanging out with guy friends means that you always need to one-up the last one’s joke, I decided to go a little further…and try to convince The VP that the picture was part of my dark past that I had yet to have to courage to fully explain to her. Like giddy little giddy-babies, Angry Dave and I huddled around my cellular telephone device.

God, I wish I saved the following texts, but the first one I sent to The VP that night, was along the lines of “Hey…Can we talk? Something has been eating away at me…” It took her like 4 minutes to respond, probably because she LOVED playing text games, but she finally shot back:

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, there’s just something I’ve been embarrassed about telling you for a while.”

[after her customary 4 minute wait] “What is it?”

“It’s really not THAT bad, but please don’t laugh…” And then I sent the picture. First, of the whole group, and then of the close-up of AussieJimmy.

“No way.”

“It was when I was in L.A. and I only did it for a little while, but…yeah. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before, but I was embarrassed and I didn’t know how to bring it up. Just had to get it out.”

(WAIT)

“I’m so sorry.”

“Really…I’m so sorry. I really care about you and don’t want this to get in the way.”

And with that, I effectively ruined The VP’s Friday night. At this point, Angry Dave and I were howling laughing; like, the kind of laughing where we were running in place while re-reading the text exchange over and over and over again. The VP had gone dark. She was at her girlfriend’s place and, years later, she told me that her girlfriend was telling her that she had to break up with me. Evidently, dating a fake-Australian stripper was something that The VP’s reputation couldn’t withstand. The VP says she wasn’t crying, but was kinda’ close and very confused. She’ll tell you now that she thought it was “probably a joke,” but you don’t go dark on texts the way she did that night if you think it’s a prank.

I imagine she got the texts, started laughing and then showed her girlfriend. Once her girlfriend saw, and my subsequent “I’m so sorry” texts came through, she probably tried to force more laughter, but her friend noticed The VP’s eyes were welling up with tears. Her friend probably said something like “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay.” The VP then shook her head and wiped away her tears while saying “it’s so stupid, I don’t even know why I’m crying! I’m sure he’s joking. I’m sure he’s joking.” Then, she got the next couple “I’m so sorry texts” and probably started discussing realistic next steps with her friend. I’m POSITIVE she said “You’re right. I have to break up with him” during her text-blackout.

Now, I’m not going to lie (because I’m honest to my good good friends) there were times during this 45-minute text-blackout that I almost sent a “jk lol omg” text. We were an established relationship at this point, but she did possess about 97% of the power in this relationship, so this was a risky move. Angry Dave was a calming influence; telling me to “stay the course” every time he saw me get quiet and slowly raise my phone into proper text-message position. “Not yet!”-he would say. I adhered because it WAS funny and…he was bigger than me and I didn’t want him to get Angry (quick sidenote: Angry Dave now dates Mean Allie. It’s the most perfectly terrifying combination in the history of couples…and Mean Allie is gonna be SO MAD about her nickname that guess what kind of text I’ll get from her later today? A mean one.)

At about minute 46 of this standoff, I called The VP. She let it ring like 7 times because that’s what the moment called for, and then answered with a scared “Hey…” I told her that I was joking. Angry Dave was kinda’ annoyed that I didn’t let it last until the morning, but not full-on Angry, so I was safe. The VP laughed it off like she was never worried, but she was…oh, she most definitely was. Then she hung up and went back to hanging out with her girlfriend. And I went back to hanging out with Angry Dave, but only thinking about how work-friend Mike may be meeting up with The VP later WITH HIS STUPID FUCKING GOLD CHAIN AND GELLED-UP HAIR.

OUR WORLD:

Last night, The VP and I saw “Isle of Dogs”. We had wanted to see “A Quiet Place”, but it was sold out. Was I secretly relieved that “A Quiet Place” was sold-out because it looks scary and I don’t like scary movies? You better believe it buddy! Plus, “Isle of Dogs” had an awesome trailer and I liked the last Wes Anderson movie about the hipsters in the hotel. (Googling the actual name of the Hipster Hotel movie…) “The Grand Budapest Hotel”.

“Isle of Dogs” was the definition of cute, but nothing more. The animation visuals were interesting, but movies are all about story (film-school grad talk) and this story did not have enough surprises to hold my interest. The easiest test for whether you actually enjoy a movie is to go see one on a Tuesday night at 8PM. If you find yourself getting excited about going home to get to bed at any point during the movie, it’s not a great flick. About 40 minutes in to “Isle of Dogs” I was marinating in extended yawns and trying to remember where I left my sleep sweatpants.

It wasn’t bad, but you spend half the movie in your head trying to figure out what celeb is the voice of what dog. The laughs in the movie were never full-blown guttural laughs, but more soft chuckles. And, the twists were pretty expected and underwhelming. I know it was animated, but I figured that Wes Anderson wouldn’t make me feel like I was watching a kids movie (I’M A MAN!) Unfortunately, I kinda’ felt like I was watching a kids movie with a bunch of adults who settled on this movie only after finding out that “A Quiet Place” was sold out.

Best part of the experience? The trailer for this summer’s Mr. Roger’s documentary “Won’t You Be My Neighbor”. Loved this show as a kid and thought about how much better of a person I should be when watching this trailer. Can’t wait!

Worst part of the experience? The overwhelming fake butter smell coming from The VP’s DRENCHED bag of popcorn.

Best part of the movie? Ed Norton voicing a nerdy dog. How has he not been in a live-action fantastic movie lately? GET ON IT, HOLLYWOOD!

Worst part of the movie? A second act that dragged on about 12 minutes too long. Yawn-o-rama.

My official review? I’m going to give it 6.5 out of 10 Chairs. (If somebody knows how to insert chair graphics and wants to do it for me, let me know!)

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I may have posted this before, but I don’t care. I can’t remember the last time I was more excited for a documentary. GIVE ME JUNE NOW!

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Sarah Huckabee Sanders and her “I’m never not annoyed with everything and everyone”-face. Ugh.

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

I’m still basking in the glow of my big Masters win. I’m guessing I’ll get back into the gambling ring tomorrow night when I have a work event at a bar in front of TVs. Starting to think NBA playoffs and…am I the only one who things Milwaukee could upset the Sixers in round one? The Sixers are becoming the classic overhyped underdog team that will lose early.

(My account currently at $256.83)

K bye.

Making The VP Mad and Reality Show Hall of Fame

MY WORLD:

Yesterday, I made a huge mistake that The VP of Ops was thrilled to call me out on, when I didn’t write about her. It seems that I said the “Time I Made Myself Laugh By Making The VP of Ops Mad or Uncomfortable”-section would be a Monday staple and now it’s Tuesday. I BLEW IT! Sorry fam (that’s a word cool people say even when they’re not talking to family only). Let’s make this section a Tuesday staple now, because the jobs one is too juicy not to write about on Mondays. Deal? ARE YOU HAPPY NOW, VP?!?! DOES THIS MAKE YOU HAPPY?!?!?!

For today’s “Time I Made Myself Laugh By Making The VP of Ops Mad or Uncomfortable” I would like to bring us back to a little beer fest last summer. The company I work for throws a pretty radical beer fest that I get to go to for free (no big deal). Aside from getting schwasty wastey, this fest had fun stuff like ax throwing, freaking video games, guys, VIDEO GAMES! And! there was a tattoo station! For like $20, I could pick a simple, little design from a pre-determined set. The designs were along the lines of little anchors, sailboats, sailor hats, things that had nothing to do with the sea but I can’t remember, ya’ know that kinda’ stuff.

The VP probably sensed that I was gonna go for a tattoo when I said to her “I’m going to get a tattoo later, FYI.” (It’s like she can read my mind!) Her initial response was dismissive because I was 4 strong beers deep and she probably figured that if she didn’t make a big deal out of it, that I’d forget about the tattoo. Here’s the thing about me though, guys: whenever I feel even the slightest sense of VP unease, I do NOT forget. I saw the “Jesus, please don’t”-look in her eyes when I first brought it up and oooo la la did that get my juices flowin. We were with a couple of friends too, so I knew that I was going to get her mad in front of them…which is bonus points in my devious, devious game.

You’re probably thinking, “but Jimmy, tattoos hurt! Weren’t you scared about the pain?” That’s the thing, I wasn’t even scared about the pain. When given the opportunity to get The VP of Ops mad in PUBLIC and in front of friends, pain isn’t part of the equation. I do what is necessary for the cause, and worry about repercussions later. That’s just the kinda man I am. I’m also a man who was, at this point now, probably 6 strong beers deep and I’ve gotten two tattoos before and didn’t even cry that much so, like, whatever.

A couple beers later, I started telling my friend Dave that I was going to get a tattoo. The VP couldn’t hear what I was saying, but between the whispering and pointing at the tattoo stand that I was doing, she began to catch on. Her eyes widened, and her teeth clenched as she began the process of going from “kinda joking” to “don’t you dare”-mode. (Houston, this is Jimmy, requesting permission for takeoff.) As The VP walked towards my friend and I, she tried to force a smile. “You’re not getting a tattoo, okay?” Uh, okay? Seems The VP of Ops forgot that NOBODY is the boss of me.

Thus, my response, “well, you’re not the boss of me.” As our cute lil tiff vacillated between jokey and kinda-serious, our friends didn’t know whether to laugh or walk away and let us hash it out. Obviously, the harder I pushed, the funnier it was going to become, so I started pushing. What baby pants VP didn’t understand is that this tattoo wasn’t about the design, it was about creating a memory of a time I…was drunk at a beer fest with friends. (These are the types of memories that don’t grow on trees nah’m sayin?) If I told her the other reasons I wanted it were to prove to her that I’m the boss of me (I’m a strong man!) and that making her mad ALWAYS makes me laugh, well that would’ve ruined the effect.

She couldn’t wrap her tiny brain around me getting a permanent design put on my arm that had no meaning to me. Uh, cuz it’s funny? If you’re dating or married to a person that thinks they’re funny, you should be prepared for this response anytime he/she is about to do something seemingly inexplicable. I say “uh, I don’t know? Because it’s funny!” at least 9 times a week. The bickering between The VP and I had reached the part where our friends were genuinely beginning to feel awkward, so I turned up the heat, left the conversation and got in the tattoo line. The VP shot a silent, flared-nostrils glare at me. Too bad I hit her back with a cool-guy shoulder shrug once I settled in line. “Don’t even care.”

The line was about 50 feet away from The VP and our two friends. They watched as I stood, now arms-crossed, just a waitin’ my turn! Dave was laughing. The VP and her friend were not. Well, The VP was DEFINITELY not…the other girl kinda’ was. I mouthed “I don’t care” about 6 times to really drive home the point about who the real boss of me is. (Honestly, at this point, it was a 50/50 split between the comedy of making her mad and actually proving that she couldn’t tell me what to do.) Then, one of the tattoo artists made her way to me in line and told me that they were cutting off tattoo services.

Surprisingly, my “but I want one” line of arguing did not work with Tattoo Tammy. The thing was, though, that The VP couldn’t hear that I got in line too late. The joke could continue! After speaking with Tattoo Tammy, I just kept lingering around the tattoo station, smiled and gave The VP a “good to go!”-thumbs up. I probably threw in a little celebratory shoulder-shimmy too. The VP rolled her eyes and shook her head in that VERY disappointed way that only women can do, and walked away. If I could’ve given myself a high-five without looking like a lunatic, I would have. In fact, I just may have anyway.

Now, I could wait like 4 minutes and then head over to The VP of Ops with a whole “I decided that I love you and didn’t want to disappoint you”-routine. God, I’m good. Remember the ole fliparooski? Yeah, that move was about to be back in a BIG WAY. Not only was I going to have gotten laughs for making her mad, but I was ALSO going to get her to feel silly for overreacting. GOD, I’M GOOD!

Unfortunately, 4 minutes later, when I sauntered over ready to begin my rehearsed routine, The VP was laughing. Uh…she was supposed to be kinda mad and giving me the silent treatment. Remember? Then I was gonna be all like “I didn’t even get it. I was joking the whole time.” And SHE was gonna be all like “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I get so worked up over very funny jokes that you should be applauded for.” Well, kinda throws a wrench into those plans when she is already laughing when I arrive.

Nevertheless, I began the “I decided that I love you and didn’t want to disappoint you”-routine anyway. She cut it off with an absolutely diabolical “Oh, I didn’t even care about that, check this out,” as she showed me something funnier than me! WHAT?!?!? Wait, this was supposed to be my finale, my coo de grah (I know I spelled that wrong, but fuck off). Nope, she cucked me with the move that will forever be the bane of my existence. What move? The “oh, I forgot about your very funny joke because this is way funnier”-move. Well played, VP…BUT I KNOW YOU WERE REALLY FUCKING MAD!

OUR WORLD:

I am aware that The National Championship game was played last night (because I lost a bunch of money on it), but “Vanderpump Rules” was also on and…well, that wins. When a reality show trumps a title game for some sport, that means it’s a HALL OF FAMER, so I would like to induct the first four shows of Jimmyschair’s Reality Show Hall of Fame:

Vanderpump Rules
Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives
Bar Rescue

Want a tease? The rest of the week’s “Our World” section will focus on breaking down each of these shows. Get excited. I am! ARE YOU?!! GUYS?!?! ARE YOU EXCITED?!?!

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Posting a video likes this takes a lot of bravery on my part. A country music performance on “The Ellen Show”? Jimmy! That’s career suicide! Maybe, but history rewards the bold, folks…and this song jams.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Easily the most hated character on “Vanderpump Rules”

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MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

I took a bath last night, but I did it for a friend. Now, I don’t want to say that makes me some sort of gambling warrior, but I also don’t want to NOT say that. Lets just say that I could not be happier that the NCAA Tournament is over because sweet baby Jesus did that kick my butthole. There are times after longs stretches of losing that I think about maybe not gambling for a little while…but The Masters are this weekend and GOTTA SPEND MONEY TO MAKE MONEY! I may hit up a baseball game before Thursday just to get the juices flowin again…

(My account currently at $21.09)

K bye.