No Pants Friday

Georgina has a city, but I’ve got a county! It’s up in the Texas panhandle, just south of Amarillo. The whole county had fewer than 1,800 residents as of last year. Ouch. Pretty rough terrain. Average of 10.5 inches of rain annually.

But I like my county! Rocks, sand, snakes, cacti and… more rocks and sand and cacti.

Maybe Roachy would like to live there.

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I was holding an angry THEGIRL yesterday when she thrashed, kicked me in the balls and sent me straight to the grass. Was all I could do to keep from dropping her.

My best fatherhood advice: Wear a cup.

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Kansas City’s Zack Greinke, one of the most highly-touted pitching prospects in baseball, is 0-6 this season. He’s getting poor run support. Is that wise? Rush a prospect through the minors and bring him to a club with sparse bat power and… what’s the toll on this kid’s psyche? He’s got a good ERA (3.83), so you know his performances are fine.

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I’ve said it before: A key component in getting away with something is just going about it like you belong there.

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I just found the world’s biggest cashew in my bag of trail mix. Huge! I’d call Guinness, but I ate it.

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I think I'll stroll into Briscoe County and proclaim tomorrow NO PANTS FRIDAY.

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I used to work with this guy, an older guy. He was nice enough, but his faculties weren't as sharp as perhaps they once were, and he could really put on airs sometimes.

He came to my desk once and stood there with his zipper about a foot from my ear, which I can't stand. Told me some exhalted muckety muck was coming to the station the next day, and that I needed to meet him, blah blah blah.

And I said, "Okay Brandon. I'll try to remember to wear pants."

And he said, "Okay, blah blah blah..." and on and on and completely missed what I said.

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Long weekend... mmm... almost there.