Mr. Jones Strikes Up a...

I must admit, I watched part of the TNA Wrestling last night because Adam “Pacman” Jones was supposed to be in the show. Being in the show, you’d think he’d have some words with the announcers or with other wrestlers but no, just a back stage dimly lit little ditty where he shadowboxed and said how he was misunderstood and a team player. And of course I got sucked in to watching about 20 more minutes of the segment. Dude, I don’t know how they get that shit on pay-per-view. Not that I’m a big fan of wrestling, but that was the most chaotic unscripted crap I’ve ever seen. What started out as a two man match ended up being an eight man match with garbage cans, chairs, and ladders being tossed about. I think I recognized a couple of old WWF faces (Kurt Engle, the guy with the leather mask over his face and flannel shirt – Mankind?), but other than that they had nothing to compare to whatever the current professional wrestling organization is called today. If you spend over $5 to see the Hard Justice show when it comes out on pay-per-view you’re a fucking idiot. But if you do please tape it for me. I want to see Pacman get injured and violate his NFL contract. Hmmm, possible signing bonus payback?

How about we stick Jones in the Octagon with the likes of Tito Ortiz or Ken Shamrock or Rashad Evans. That I would pay to see. Even though it might be the quickest $30 I’ve ever spent, watching Mr. Jones getting his ass pummeled and tossed around like a rag doll would definitely give me a stiffy.

In other news, I’m still shitting anything but solids. If this keeps up I’m going to be super dehydrated and will end up looking like a dried up raisin of a 30 yr-old man. I’ve tried to drink as much water as possible but it seems like I shit out twice as much as I take in. Truly a beautiful picture, sorry.

Today after I got home from work I had a list of things to do. I wasn’t sure if I could do them all in my weakened condition and all (still have it in the bedroom, ladies), but I was going to give it my best. My initial plan was to lift weights (chest) and mow the lawn. While I did get the weightlifting in, I can certainly tell you it wasn’t my best stuff. Long rests in between sets, embarrassingly light weights, but I got through it in one piece. I’m still alive to type about it. And I did get the lawn mowed, although it did take twice as long as it usually does. The lungs just weren’t ready for a little cardio yet. And then came my proud shining moment: I even washed the Jeep. I sweat my ass off for a good two hours, gulping water the whole time, and I bet you the next time I pee it’s still going to be a dingy yellow. Ah yes, another picture you wanted me to thoroughly describe for you.

You probably could have guessed it already being a Friday and all: I am writing this while (still) sweating my ass off on the lovely deck. After not drinking for three days (Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday), I figured it was time to take off the socks and test out the water. Liking the extra $60-$75 in my pocket from taking off those three days I stopped at the local liquor store on the way home and picked up a very nice six-pack of Samuel Adams Octoberfest and a not so nice $10 1.75 liter bottle of vodka. So far, three bottles in, I’m liking the Octoberfest quite a lot. It’s got a decent flavor (from what I can tell with the nose still partially plugged) and a nice texture (kind of liquidy), but three in and I can assure you it has some potency behind that pretty face. (Speaking of which, has anyone else ever had a dream of having sex with two absolutely hot women who after they’ve had their way with you (twice) they turned out to be vampires? Um, yeah, me neither, just checking, really. But talk about potent sex, I mean, if it really happened, in a dream. I’ll just quite there.) How I manage to save money spending $25 a night on tappers at the bar I will never know.

Oh goodness. The black lady across the street just walked by with her dog (not that I’m defining her as a black lady, just don’t want you to confuse her with the white trash lady who also lives across the street). I, of course, took a little break from you (sorry) and asked her if she found her purse last week. Last week Thursday after the Brewers game I was sitting on the deck and noticed that she had driven off with her purse on the trunk of her car. Being the model neighbor (who may or may not have lit off fire works one memorable night) I chased after her trying to get her attention. Of course, knowing how women only see what’s in front of them when they’re driving, she didn’t see me running along side her car. I used to be fast, both physically and with the women, but I couldn’t keep up. So today I walked down the steps and asked her if her purse was still there when she got to wherever she was going. Thankfully she said it was. After that I tried making small talk, but the whole time her pit bull was either licking my legs (haven’t showered yet) or putting my fingers in it’s mouth. Uh, yeah, I was just a little freaked out trying to keep eye contact with her while her dog could have easily ripped off a couple of my dainty fingers.

Anyway, I have shit load or more stuff for you (I was thinking about going through the sex partners – all female – and rating their best/worst qualities, might still have to do that one) but I’m pretty sick of typing right now so I’ll let you go masturbate in peace. Happy rubbings.