no coke...pepsi

I didn't end up at the 'new' barbershop the other day. There was a mission change that entailed Amy taking the boys over post-haste and me missing my chance at a clean coif. I may head over later this week because it's near impossible for me to live with the hair in this state - and this is why I'll never have long hair - I can't get through the garbage-y phase. I am, however, bringing my digital camera so I can put faces to my barbers. In fact, I've decided to 'IMDB' the cast of my blog so everyone has a vision of what the characters look like. That's okay, right? This isn't fiction where my four readers want to imagine their idea of the population? If you'd like to register a complaint, feel free.

Rockies in five games. I've called it.

Our friend Sue forwarded this link to my old pal Melissa (co-worker, not ex-wife) a bit ago. I got an e-mail from Mel sometime last week and can now put a thumbtack on the map that represents where all the people I've known are now living. (She's in Greenville, Texas...if you're wondering; and you are.)

I had the longest dissertation on torture and the domesday scenario composed and ready to throw out; suddenly, I realized that it's hardly worth the effort. It's a morally bankrupt, short-minded, and shallow argument. Then next politician that trots out that lame story should be removed from office. That's the summary.

All's well here. My work is sssooooo stimulating. It matters not at all - I'm here for that chick.

T.

(would she find chick sexually offensive?)