Am I Just Missing Something Here…

…Or couldn’t just xerox the same couple of Sudokus and do them over and over? It’s not like I remember where the numbers go or anything.

Just curious.

Jeopardy-The Home Game, New Orleans Edition

Answer-And THAT’S how you found yourself standing at the front desk of the Marriott Courtyard at 4:00 in the morning wearing nothing but your martini glass boxer shorts asking for another key card because you locked yourself out of your room.

Question-I have no freakin’ idea.

Must. Find. Tylenol.

Aunt B Oughta Kick My Ass

I had a little time to kill in the airport before my flight to St. Louis, so I thought I’d check out some of the “Arts in the Airport” that all of our tax dollars are supporting.

Most of it is crap, but there is an excellent display in the hallway between the two security checkpoints. Local sculptor Alan LeQuire, he of “Musica” and “Athena” fame, has created a series of very large busts (that’s not the Aunt B connection, you little GooglePervs) of cultural icons.

I walked down the line marveling at his representations of Woody Guthrie, Bessie Smith, Billie Holliday and Paul Robeson. But when I approached the last sculpture, I was stopped in my tracks. I thought, “Why in the hell did he include a bust of Nipsey Russell?!”

It was Lead Belly. My bad.

Seen Over the Toilet at the Sportsman’s Grille

I’m not certain I want these people doing any engraving on my jewelry…

The Blonde Horsewoman of the Apocalypse

She may be bubbly and fresh-faced and cute as a bug, but I have decided you do not want to see WKRN’s Jenna McKee outside your house in the morning.

Because if she is standing there with a microphone in her hand that means:

1. Somebody got shot
2. Somebody got robbed.
3. Something is on fire.
4. Some old person mistook the gas for the brake and rammed into a building.

No matter what, you’re screwed.

On a related note, I’m supposed to put on a company golf tournament for 200+ of our customers tomorrow morning, and Jim Cantore just called to see if he could stay in my guest bedroom tonight while he waits for hurricane Humberto.

Uh oh.

I Guess Since Karl Dean Won…

…I won’t get to use this cool logo I designed.

Sorry about that Bob. I guess only people in their right minds made it out to the polls yesterday.

I Don’t Know About Y’all…

…but I’m getting tired of all this damn rain.

Help Me!

I was on my bike ride this morning, and I got the song “Eep Opp Ork Ah-Ah (Means I Love You)*” stuck in my head.

Someone please help me get it out of there. Especially before I go to the men’s room stall for the first time today. It’s a real toe-tapper.

Hurry, I had corn for dinner last night.

*If you’re under 30 and you don’t know what the hell I’m talking about, feel free to just watch the Justin Timberlake FUTURELOVE/SEX show on HBO until us old folks are done talking about the Jetsons.