Nothing says “you’re half way through the week!” like a plate of nachos to share at one of our favorite haunts, “Cavallo’s”, in the Village of New Hartford.
Three beers at supper also contributed to the sentiment.
July 26, 2006
Well, Duh.
Lance Bass has come out of the closet. Good for him. I’m glad to see he’s happy.
I’m trying to figure out a way to humorously tie this to the campy cartoon series “Josie and The Pussycats in Outer Space” for some odd reason but I’m falling short. He doesn’t have a skunk stripe in his hair (though many gay men do). He’d probably look good in Alan’s ascot. I wonder if his ears wiggle like Melody’s. I’ll probably blurt out something witty at work and then forget to write it down.
Welcome to the team Lance! Just don’t follow George Michael’s lead – that sort of thing leads to all sorts of trouble.
Screw The Exercise.
Yesterday I was all proud of myself because I walked 2 1/2 miles during my lunch hour. Did I feel better for it? Sort of. Not really. I was hot, sweaty and sticky and it wasn’t even from the heat of passion. It was from walking the streets of our fine city. Afterwards, I stuck to my office chair and dripped on my keyboard.
Not pretty.
So today I did the sensible thing. Now if you think that means I packed up a bag of gym clothes to change into during lunch then you really haven’t been paying attention. No, no. I came home and did the right thing, I followed my traditional routine by flying home at an unreasonable speed, parked my butt in front of my computer and surfed the internet, all accompanied by a delicious wrap Earl made for me this morning. (I’m extremely lucky in the “let’s eat!” department).
Will I feel all better this afternoon? I think I will because I won’t stick to the office chair and my keyboard won’t be dripped on. I’ll save the walk for tonight.
