2005-08-24 - 7:13 a.m.

I think I need to get my body fitted for self-lubricating pulleys. I know, I know. How cliche. But they would have come in mighty handy this week. Especially yesterday. I suppose my ligaments started fraying on Sunday when I helped Peter and Titie move more of their stuff from the apartment to the new house. It probably didn't help that it was 109 degrees that day. And then yesterday - oh sweet lord - did Nick and I ever get a bad luck of the draw. Well, that's not an entirely true statement. There was a shitty job to do and Nick and I were the only ones that COULD do it since Matt & Dustin had the day off, Big Nick is off sunning himself on the tropical Maine beaches no doubt drinking his sweet, sweet poison known as Sailor Jerry, and while Senor is back in this DM/CBS piece, I don't think I need to tell you that Senor & shitty jobs go together like Helen Hunt and sex. Which is to say, if they come in contact with each other, they will explode into gallons of rank gelatinous goop. Or something. So yeah, Nick and I had to unload about 30 trailer hitches (weighing between 50 & 100+ lbs.) into the most cricket, beetle, earwig, spider-filled bulkhead/basement you have ever seen. And I know what you're thinking, you've seen a ton of cricket, beetle, earwig, spider-filled bulkhead/basements. That may be. And if so, perhaps you should apply to be on the television program, "Dirty Jobs". And then maybe when you're done stealing my fucking limelight you can sit down, stick your thumb in a pie and shut the fuck up. I have the conch shell right no motherfucker. And don't forget it. Yeah. I forget what the point of this story was. Oh yeah, after Nick and I pretty much sweat our retinas off, we got really punchy and began naming the different trailer hitches. Obvious names like, "Saint Mary." Yeah. Yesterday was a long day. And the icing on the cake was, almost immediately after I finished Hitchy McExertALot, I took my solid gold rocket car over to Alex & Aly's (& Hayley's) and helped Alex and Aly move all their shit into a U-Haul truck. And then I went to Smiley's to get more M.C.W.'s for friend and me. Oh but were they ever good. Made better by eating them during a Red Sox win, Reno & Stella. Standout Stella line: "Sure, I could stick my bear paw in your honey pot. But then what? Then we're all sticky." Of course, I could only enjoy all the fun business so much due to the fact that at that point I was a curdled lump of sore muscles and bone spurs. You understand.

Boy, KFC. must be pretty hard up. They know I won't eat their food for a variety of reasons. But 3 of them being, 1. - It's wicked bad for you, 2. - I almost got shot the last time I went to a KFC, 3. - Aly would kick my ass if I supported them in any way whatsoever. But still, they must have had a meeting that went all the way up to the top. It probably went like this:
KFC Guy 1: We need to get the Zach demographic back.
KFC Guy 2: I agree. Wait, the general demographic or just Zach personally?
KFC Guy 1: Just Zach.
KFC Guy 3: But Zach never really ate at KFC to begin with, right?
KFC Guy 1: That doesn't change the fact that Tracey Lundrgen fucks goats.
KFC Guy 2: . . .
KFC Guy 3: um . . . yeah, but anyway, what should the plan be to lure Zach in?
KFC Guy 1: I don't see how we have any choice.
KFC Guy 2: You mean?
KFC Guy 1: I do.
KFC Guy 3: Ok guys! Get ready for the big finish!
[VAMP Opening Number to cover quick costume change]

KFC Guys 1, 2 & 3: (in unison) FREE CAKE!

Those bastards. They know where my bread is buttered. My free cakey bread. You know, there's drawbacks to writing this shit in the morning. I have the advantage of not drinking while I write (mostly) in the morning, but my brain is still moth-bitten with my crystal-meth outsized dreams from my fitful night of slumber. You win some you lose some. And if you're Alex Rodriguez, well, you just win none and lose all. Because you're a fucking pretty boy cockmonkey who curses all his teams with his hair frostingly awful awfulness. That is all.

And now? You all now what time it is! No, not my birthday, but close! (It pretty much is my birthday all week, as you know, so an understandable mix-up) No, no, it's every little girl and boy's favoritest time EVER! That's right: Free Form Poetry About Jimbo Time!

---------- "My Heart Is Made Of Plinko Chips" ----------
By: ZQF

He calls me on my phone
1:30 here - 10:30 there
He knows I'm at work
I feel he is at work too
I am wrong
No work for the weary
I express that it's odd
To get a morning call from
Diego San
Is there trouble?
New V-Mail
I check it
Jimbo slept in the streets
The streets of L.A.
(That's Los Angelos
Not Laconia
For those of you keeping score)
The streets?
The streets?!
Poor forsaken Jimbo!
Come home!
All is forgiven!
You can even be in charge
Of the remote
But . . . what's this?
There's more . . .
A group, t-shirts, a line
An oversized name tag
The glitter, flittering ghost
Of Rod Roddy
Jimbo, you scamp!
A dollar! Say a dollar!
People go fucking apeshit
When you bid a dollar.

So yeah, that's what Jimbo's been up to.

I can't believe how much shit I still have to do to the house to get it ready for the party. All of which I've got to do tonight. God, I can almost taste that fucking bouncy castle. God damn, I bet it tastes like fucking premium grade vinyl! I think I just made up, "premium grade vinyl". Or maybe it'll smell like feet! I think I just made up, "feet". Also, I thought I was coming down with some Grade A Ebola, but like my parents taught me, it ain't nuthin' some cherry cough drops can't fix. God is in the cough drops my friends. He's in all the little cough drops I know ho ho ho! Wait, I think I just remixed a song I made up about God being in the cough drops with "Someone's in the Kitchen with Dinah". Damn, I'm so crazy, Terri Schiavo won't even be friends with me. [That's because she died.]

Bitches, I better start seeing some birthday cards show up in the mail, pronto like!

It's been real,

Hole In One . . . or Two!

ps - New Poll! But first, as always, the results of the last one, "What's the best trade? [Give/Get]" Coming in tied for third with 3 votes each and 14% of the vote was "Brontosaurus for a Stegasaurus" and "Kenichi for a Kegerator". Sorry Kenich! 2nd place went to, with 5 votes and 24%, "Finger for a Tail." Which, is just . . . odd. That was one of the fucked up ones I just threw in there. And it really seemed to have spoken to you little diabetic freaks. For the record, I was pulling for "Crispix for Cinnamon Life". Which of course means it got ZERO votes. And the winner by a landslide, which is to say 1 vote, with 6 & 29% was "Ricky for a Pinata". I suppose this one was a forgone conclusion.

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