Slow News Week - but a few tidbits:
I'm sure the upcoming Labor Day weekend will create a buttload of Shennigans to write about (mostly from Parker who's Labor Day weekends seem to always result in an alcohol-fueled clusterf**k of family and friends dropping ketchup covered Brautwurst on her Barcelona chairs or a slice of Pineapple upside down cake in her pool).
Meanwhile over in the raging inferno known as California I will be starting "Physical Therapy" after work on Friday (because nothing says "let's get this labor day weekend party started" like Physical Therapy.) Why physical therapy? Because after 6 weeks of rolling out of bed like I was Jessica Tandy after a gang-banger and not being able to bend for the first 3 hours of the day I finally got my hypochondriac ass to an orthopedic who confirmed that I have "degenerative disc disease" AND arthritis in my back. THannkkkkkkkkkssss. Will junk mail from The Scooter Store be far behind? Anyhoo, not only am I not exactly thrilled at the idea of having a complete stranger treat me like Stretch Armstrong, but I have a horrible fear that I might let one rip during a deep leg stretch. Oh the humanity.
And finally, when there isn't anything to write about there's always a ridiculous product to make fun of. I'd love to know who the genius behind this toy was. He clearly did his research because I know for a fact that child pole dancers fancy green satin dresses and a pole with disco ball on top. Has the economy gotten so bad that toddlers are now encouraged to emulate pole dancers in the hopes of gainful employment when they turn 18? Clearly so.