One week before camp starts and I end up on IR after sustaining an ass injury while bowling. What a world. So yeah, I expect to be gimping tomorrow. Pathetic enough I can't even blame my AWFUL scores on the injury as it didn't happen til the second game. It was a bad night that got worse, in a funny kind of way.

I now also know what it's like to be on stage at Jerry Springer. Funny what you get when you mix an ex, a chemically imbalanced pathological liar/nutjob, an ice cream sundae, and my "fat, unfortunate-looking ass". I probably shouldn't entertain the cruel tendancies I have when dealing with an instable individual - but I just can't help it, it's too damn funny. As I've pointed out to other people in the past, if I'm so awful and ugly and fat and...whatever else you think I am, then why do you waste your time worrying about what I'm doing, what I'm wearing, who I'm with etc?

If I am chopped into bits and found in the trees by my house I'll be sure to remind a few close friends of the name of the probable suspect.