02/20/2004 - 5:04 p.m. | yeah, he was watching, cracking up

I'm sort of thinking in fragments right now, so that's what you're gonna get. Fragments. OK, so my bike is still broken, which is making riding no handed some sort of extreme sport. The giant sail we call a stop sign is no big help either. On the way to work, there is a sign for... some sort of political candidate named Ratcliffe. Perhaps I'm imagining things, but I think there's a Ratcliffe in pretty much every election ever. Just win already. The signs alone aren't doing it.

OK, you know how on some products, they print stuff on the package in multiple langauges? OK, sometimes I think this is a little extraneous. I mean, detailed instructions are good, so that the Mexicans don't fuck up and light themselves on fire ("�Ay de me! �Estoy en fuego!"), but seriously. I think that they could probably figure out that the Charmin Gigantic Roll is the same thing as their Chamin Rollo Gigante without being specifically informed.

Re: Previous entry - Kyle's plan to get the trolls is as follows: Pee in one of Spritz's jars of canned beef (at least partially full). Freeze the jar, dump it on the top of the trolls' Nissan. Wait for it to melt. Beef pee.

Semi-lucid dreaming: So, I was sleeping, but through the door I could hear Kyle and Spritz talking and laughing and stuff while Brytne was turning her hair dryer from high to low over and over again (whatever OCD causes that). This made me dream that Kyle and Spritz were racing slot cars (slowing down at the turns, you know), so I got really jealous and woke up. I want to race slot cars, too.

Ever since seeing the thing on "The Fabulous Life of Justin Timberlake," I really want some Pony shoes. The leather blue ones are my first instinct, but old habits die hard.