1. I’ve got the perfect idea for a sequel to Inception. Check this. It’s about a dream within a dream within a dream within a dream. Within in a dream….wait for it…Within a dream. Whoa.
2. I know it’s hip right now to hate the show Entourage but the focus of last week’s plot was a Ping Pong match between Drama and Uncle Jesse from Full House. If that’s not good TV, I don’t know what is.
3. Speaking of Ping Pong, here is a pictorial update from the front lines of Man Pong.
4. I’m thinking of naming my kick ball team “The Situation” but it’s tearing me up inside. The unpleasantness is caused from the hypocrisy of balancing my need to be on the bleeding edge of pop culture with my distain for reality tv programming. I wish The Hangover was still relevant so I could name my team The Wolfpacks but that is SO 2009.
5. What’s the deal with Fireworks shops? Why is there so many of them and how do they make money? The roadside stands near a gas station, those I kinda get, because you could set up shop for a few weeks around the 4th of July and be done with it but these big, elaborate, permanent ones really throw me for a loop.
I’m starting to think that maybe Fireworks shops are the bodegas of the Midwest for crystal meth. Follow my logic, I am acquainted with a fair share of recreational drug users and even they don’t mess around with crystal meth. Yet I know it’s really popular because they bust crystal meth labs all the time. So where do they sell it?
Fireworks stands. They are the perfect distribution points because they are always located near highway exits in the country where they make it. And maybe all the chemicals in fireworks throw drug dogs off the scent. I think I’m really on to something here. That is good po-leece.
Or maybe I just need to fix the radio in my car so I stop thinking about this shit. My mind has been wandering more than usual on my silent commutes lately.
6. I got a new phone number. I got tired of having to explain myself and my former 608 life every time I give out my number. 920-530-6388. I feel like a small part of me has died but I am sure that will change when football season starts up again.
4 comments:
Is Greg really that bad at Ping Pong or did he pick up some kind of weird STD?
I can't tell the difference between the welts and his nipples.
Looks like Greg has ringworm. Did he ever get over his case of crotch-dot?
That's not funny, Joe. I had a cousin who died from Crotch-dot.
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