Booger Time

'Tis the season. The season where the snot flows freely and the boogers are plentiful. Free flu shots were available in my building this week. I had to decline. If I'm going to get sick, I'd like to do it on my own. No help from the hyperdermic needed.

It's this time of year that I get all teary-eyed and remember what I was doing this time last year: whipping other's asses in my fantasy football league. Sadly, the league was disbanded, the manager left for the sub-Canadian wasteland; I don't see the old gang that much anymore. I don't know if I would be much up for it anymore, anyhow. My girlfriend has softened me. She doesn't like me talking about asswater and dropping turds. She likes for me to talk about picket fences and diamond rings. Ahh....but if only I one more day in that glorious league...someday...

Phil Heimlich

I'm glad to see that David Pepper beat Phil Heimlich. I don't know if it will do anything for the greater good of humanity or raise Cincinnati up to the level of one of those hip, up-and-coming cities like Portland or Austin or wherever, but I'm not shedding tears that we won't have Heim to kick around anymore. Maybe he can go find someone who's choking and offer to expel the chicken-wing from their throat. Maybe he can go help the KKK straighten their cross on Fountain Square--assuming the construction's over by then. I don't know about you, but he always seemed a little crooked. One of my friends once referred to him as a Nazi. That's not really fair. I prefer just to think of him as a schmuck.