suavely deranged

From quality bonding time with my new TV. Since the Chiefs/Dolphins game got moved to tonight (Hurricane WILMA? I mean Katrina just sounds like a total bitch, but I hear Wilma; I see Fred, Pebbles and Dino. Sorry. Name the fucker after a real mean fucking bitch. Like, say, my ex-wife for example. I'm only kidding. She's a real humanitarian. A sage, even. But again, I digress.), from Sunday morning, I was under the impression that I'd be able to enjoy my very 1st NFL game of the year on CBS this evening. I even watched the shortest of the movies I've purchased of late (The Longest Yard remake ($12 at Blockbuster); pretty good, but I really feel bad for Kevin Nash for having to be such a little bitchboy in it. Love me some Adam Sandler. Yes, even Punch Drunk Love.) instead of Sin City (also $12, the Block has a 2 for $24 promotion on previously viewed DVD's. Mighty nice of them.); so I'd be done in time for the game.

So you can likely imagine my utter fucking dismay when I turned my 51'' of Fury to CBS at 5:01 MST to discover that I'd be settling in for the evening with the Oprah fucking Winfrey show instead of NFL excitement. Needless to say, I was UNthrilled. I'll likely console myself with a marathon viewing of Season I of Veronica Mars and perhaps some Absolut Orange.

It's been a day of disappointments; oddly enough, considering the bowl of fucking cherries that my life usually is. First, I was shocked and dismayed to discover that the photos of lovely model Dana Hamm that I'd included in my 1st in depth interview with her had completely vanished; leaving only little white boxes with red X's in them. Hopefully, I'll be able to replace them next month, when, presumably, my expended bandwidth hereabouts starts over at 0 or at least the 8 or whatever MB it actually was afore the server was attacked. No pictures is really cutting into my beloved traffic. We simply cannot have that.

Then the tragedy of my hopes of enjoyimg football this evening were dashed on the rocks of Oprah's sheer power. I bet she told CBS she'd walk if they preempted her little crimes against man this evening for some genuine reality TV. Skank. Oh, she'll get hers, though. Karma's an even more cruel and powerful bitch than she is.

Finally, when I fired up this fucking thing to rant and rave and vent and spew venom, I discovered an e-mail from Carl informing me that we don't play volleyball this coming Tuesday. Fuck. I mean, sure, the extra sleep will be nice, but I enjoy the evening out and the cameraderie. And hitting the shit out the ball. And there's womenfolks there. I like womenfolks. Quite a lot actually. The only positive tip to this little setback is that I won't have to contact my neighbor (fear, not lack of interest), and the womenfolks (one in particular, okay, two) won't have to see me in my current, unfortunate state.

But today's episodes of the Jamie Foxx Show, especially the 1st one; were hi-fucking-larious, so that was cool. I can only hope and pray that BET starts showing Martin, also. That was some funny shit. Fox should've never cancelled it. All right, I'm off to psych myself up to watch some new Jennifer Love Hewitt show (Ghost Whisperer or some such; everybody's stealing from Dead Like Me) later this evening. And, of course to purchase the industrial, barrel-sized jar of Vaseline. Just in case.

That's right, I've cancelled all my plans of a Friday night just to spend time with my baby. Being attentive to her needs and shit. That's simply the kind of guy what I am. But y'all know that. Enjoy your Friday night, y'all. Be good and be SAFE. I simply can't have anything happening to my 2 loyal readers, after all.