I've got this bad habit about singing at the crosswalk. It wouldn't be so bad, but that I'm always singing something girly like a Jessica Andrews song, "...So I'm wakin' u-u-up, to luh-uh-ove, crossin' new frontiers... livin' in a heaaaaaart-shaped world..." Someone always seems to suddenly appear from nowhere... leaving me trying to play it off by quickly slurring into a hum. It's no wonder I haven't made any work-friends yet.

Beefy McStudsworth
Today marks the beginning of week 5 of my working out again. I've done 5 days a week consistently for a month now. After a couple more I should be huge. Huge, I say.

Enough already...
One thing I can say about Texans, is their state pride. It's cool, I guess... although it makes me jealous. Everywhere I look there's another texas-shaped window sticker, or "A&M" this or "Longhorns" that. I've always been the type to dislike or avoid something simply based on it's popularity. When Survivor started, I was so irritaed by the ridiculous hype that I refused to watch it... same thing with Southpark, Who Wants to Be A Millionaire?, etc. Now it seems this over-abundance of Texas propaganda. Boo. In direct protest, and support of MY hometown... I made a purchase last night:

I feel it's my duty, as a transplanted Nashvillian, to represent. Besides, in a couple more months I'm going to need some new threads to show off the guns. : )

Weekend:
The highlight of my weekend was not one, but TWO trips to Linens & Things. I think I've mentioned this before, in regard to a trip to Michael's, but I'll mention it again. By entering that store without a woman on your arm, you might as well be riding atop a "We're here, we're queer" float, dressed in chaps and holding hands with a drag queen. No matter how you're dressed, how you carry yourself, or what you're there for... if you're a male there alone, you're gay. I was in workout pants, a sweaty t-shirt, and had two-day beard growth, but it didn't stop a man (who resembled Father Time) from curiously following me through the somewhat-secluded sheets-and-bedding section. You know how he knew? Because I was there, that's how.

Other than that, I went to a party with my friend Wayne. Met some nice people, had some good drinks (the hired bartender resembled a younger Dan Cortez -- mmm), and shared 'bad date' stories. Wayne won with the "I chopped off a chunk of my thumb with a food processor and my date had to take me to the hospital" story. I came in second with my date who volunteered the fact that he was in Special Ed in highschool.