February 10th, 2004

flavored with age

What, nobody got nothin' to say 'bout my boy Rich Rorty?

Well, I just ponied up the jack for another year of this thingamajig. I wish I had some useful talent like calamityjon so I could convince one of you yay-whos to pay for it, but unless one of you is going to a party and you need me to ghostwrite some material that seems like it should be funny but actually isn't, I guess that twenny five is coming right outta my pocket.

What else is goin' on? I got a potentially lucrative freelance gig this month, further cutting into my finish-the-crappy-novel time; I need a haircut; one of my cats is sick and the other one isn't eating, which means he'll be sick soon enough; I'm going to the Safety Committee annual dinner with some co-workers, which is always marked by the unsafe practice of getting plastered and driving home; and a pal of mine gave me a late Christmas present of a DVD containing old driver's ed films from the '40s to the '80s, which is ludicrously entertaining.

Today's question: what should I sing at Live Band Karaoke on Friday night? Or should I just keep my yapper trapped and get drunk? (Which reminds me, I'm thinking about mining the ever-rich vein of Trapper Keeper humor. It's the closest thing our society has to a universal resonance. Thanks, the Mead Corporation!)