Just like Knives! In my eyes!

Gawl, Sharper Image, have my babies. I want to be inside of you. Or something, or something. Let's stop playing these childish games, Sharper Image.

I love you, Sharper Image.

(SUMO ROBOTS!)

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In other v. important news, apparently there is some sort of deodorant contest going on where, if you Photoshop inspirational crap on your office PC and submit the results, and win, you become a high-level deodorant marketing executive and also, you get to meet a girl who went to my high school. (!!!) (Note: she probably won't talk about me.) Rumor has it (from my younger brother) that she has curly hair. That is all I know about this girl, who is 470 years younger than me, and a WB star.

A WB star! With curly hair! What does this have to do with deodorant!

Now listen, I don't know about you, Deodorant Makers, but if you were going to hold a bizarro little contest such as this and have the prize be meeting someone from my crappy hometown, which isn't even technically a TOWN, really, I am more than willing to shake a few hands. Or, howsabout Allen Pinkett? (Currently an insurance salesman for Hartford Life? Awww.)

Billy King?

Patton Oswalt? (Who lovingly refers to this little nook of NoVa as "Zombie Town," and who also has a dog named Grumpus.)

And, I'm out. Count it, four people. Two of which have "made it big" (WB. WB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) in the past 5-10 years. It is time for someone to PUT US ON THE MAP, dammit. So let's start some significant breeding, oh ye community watch association presidents of Forest Glen Grove, Spring Rush Farms, Bellehaven Deer Meadow. You are the ideal stage moms and dads. We need fame! We need celebrity appeal! Do it for community pride. Do it for the children, who desparately need a famous ex-resident to brag about ("close to the airport" isn't really cutting it as a town selling point, and doesn't look good on a banner in the Jaycee's parade.) Do it for the community newspaper, which is a terrifying publication. I have faith in them - they just need something to jot about besides Del. Dick "Baby-Pesticides Library-Censorship" Black (MY PRSNL HEROOO!) and slow growth hippies. And nothing says "relevant news publication" like a suburban R. Leiby.

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In most important news of all, our dog is a total class suck-up. And I'm going to bed at like, 8:30 pm tonight. Don't you even try and stop me. My weekend is all chock full of fucking partying here there and everywhere, and I need to rest up, eat some Power Bars, listen to some Mase (pre-preacher career); you know, to prep myself.