I've made it through my work day and I'm ready to molt its grungy skin. Kreg is on his way over and we're going to make a return visit to Deli-icious for some food that will barely be good for us. I'm going to order the Cuban sandwich, I think. Yes, that sound deli-icious. To borrow from Picard, I will make it so.
After that, it's off to Luke Warm's house for the party. I believe I will meet my future wife there, and we will live happily, and sexily, ever after. And yes, sexily, is a word. Consult your American Heritage if you don't believe me.
While they're searching in vain for a word that does not exist, I will now divulge some very deep, personal secrets I've been harboring for quite some time. It's better this way, with some of you gone, to get these things off my chest. Well, here goes..........
Oh, they're back.
I'll save it for another time. I suppose you're wondering how I feel about the Celtics giving up their draft pick and a couple of players for Ray Allen, an aging superstar. Well, I feel pretty good about it. I'll miss D West, though. He was a strange cat. Once, when he was asked how he felt about playing with the old ball again (the league had tried a new ball for a while but it wasn't a hit with the players), he said it didn't matter to him what he played with. For all he cared, he'd play with a sock. Okay, maybe that doesn't sound very peculiar; I guess it was the way he said it. Anyhow, he will be missed.
And so will I, by you, because I'm off to Deli-icious. See you next month.
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