Night Fever

What's Playing in my Head: "Flying High Again", by Ozzy Osbourne

Quote of the Day: "I touched her hand...Her hand touched her boob...By the transitive property, I got some boob! Algebra's awesome!" - Steve Smith, "American Dad"

I think I've said on here before that I do a lot of driving. Way I figure it, at this point, I do about 18 hours of time behind the wheel every week - which means that either I really like driving, or I'm a slave to my car. (The answer, as always in life, lies in between)

The end result of all this is that I have a lot of time on my hands to think about random things, which is pretty easy given the way my brain is hard-wired. For example:

(*) God, the Skins suck. After getting manhandled worse than Paris Hilton at a swingers convention, I think it may be time to break out the brown paper bags (for Redskins fans, not for Paris - though they could only help in her case). Given the crap-fest we put on the field, there is no legitimate way we should have been trailing by 7 going into the 4th. It should have been more like 57-10. Someone shoot me.

(*) Sunday Night Football is pretty cool; Madden seems in his element with Al Michaels, at least as much as he did with Pat "Drinky-Drinky" Summerall back in the 80's and early 90's. I just wish it started at 4:15, not 8:15.

(*) Why is it that I'm always four years behind the rest of the world, musically speaking? Christ, I'm listening to Nine Days as if I'm on the cutting edge of the modern pop scene. And while I'm on the subject...

(*) Is it retarded for me to be just discovering how fucking incredible The White Stripes' "White Blood Cells" is? (Answer: Yes, Brian, it is. Now shut up before the rest of the world discovers how much of a social ponce you are)

(*) Meg White is uber-hot, what with her Winnie Cooper-esque features and fuck-you rock chick attitude. Though I can't tell if her rack is too big for my tastes or not. No matter. I'm not turning her down if I get the chance. (Yes, Brian. You are stoned.)

(*) Why is it that as a society we can transmit messages instantaneously to the farthest corners of the globe, make computer batteries the size of a thumbnail using viral nanotechnology and send futuristic satellites into outer-fucking-space, yet we can't program a grocery store card scanner to be able to tell the difference between Credit and Debit?

(*) One of the few things that will suck about moving to the Greater Cowtown Area is the lack of MASN, the cable network that carries the Washington Nationals (of which I am a fan). Somehow, Culpeper is good enough to carry a "network" (term used loosely) that has about all of 3 hours a day of original programming, but Albemarle isn't. Maybe once Comcast actually takes over the cable monopoly in town, we'll be able to see a baseball game that doesn't involve the Yankees or the Red Sox. (This is known as a hint, FOX Sports)

(*) My fantasy team blows. When you're down to starting Ben Roethlisberger and hoping that he'll actually play Monday night so you don't start Daunte Culpepper, you know you're desperate. Add one injured running back (ie, Clinton Portis) and one running back who generally sucks (ie, Reuben Droughns of the Browns) on your Can't Cut List and there's only one conclusion to be made: I should have remembered when the damned draft date was.

(*) Note To Self: Late-night driving is a shitty time to try to figure out what you're going to write for your blog post the next day. N.B.: It's also a bad time to make mental notes on said blog post.

God, I need a nap.