unlimited text plan
unlimited chat plan
I’m not sure what’s more depressing: the continual chest pain I’m feeling, the continual rain that’s dropping, the continual hair loss of Prince William, the awkward interview I saw with Venus “I won’t kill you” Williams (her laughing coach has taught her well and let me add that pretty much all tennis interviews are horribly awkward), Taylor Dent’s 1 year stint in a full (XXL) body cast, The Pove’s absence from round freakin’ 2, Heninnnnn Horseface’s return to thee stage, Young’s hide being tanned by an Ozzy, the fact that Marcos “Jello Body Shot” Baghdatis only broke one wrapped racket, or what? So far this new year blows, and the unintended blackened fried chicken I ate for breakfast didn’t help matters.
Things that are stopping me from sticking my head in the oven are: soon Isner’s mug will be facing some serious turbulence via a Monfilbro, Blake didn’t get outta the first (fucking close though, aye?), I still have a little Old Crow left, I have cable again (with the angina inducing Tennis Channel, so I’m still undecided on how many chubs I give this new development), there appears to be at least one person who still reads this thing, my stove is electric.
I’ll be back tonight, and around for the forseeable future as a certain someone doesn’t seem to be returning my texts and IM’s. Glad to be back.
