What's wrong with a midget infatuation?

I've been called out on my midget infatuation. What's wrong with it, I say? When Sam was 4-5 years old her day care teacher was a little person. How many of you are wondering if I asked, but I didn't...not once...if she'd sing me that she represented the lollipop guild. Actually, she was a great teacher, Samantha loved the fact that she was taller than her teacher (Yes, honestly, she was), and I loved picking Sam up because I got to see her!

Still, I suppose it is wrong to want to hire one to do my bidding. And my bidding would be to be my personal assistant. No, nothing like what you see on http://www.midgetporn.com (NSFW!), that is just wrong...but someone to stand by my couch holding my coffee in the morning, doing summersaults on command, maybe the Safety Dance.

Anyway, sorry to anyone I've offended with my love of the midget. Willow is one of my favorite movies while that guy from Big Fish scares me. (Especially now that he's dead...if I saw him today I'd definitely crap myself, don't need any giant zombies chasing me (is Willow dead, don't remember)). Wow, 2 levels of parenthesis, yeah, the ADD strikes again.

Anyway, if you are going to lunch at Jumer's, don't plan on getting back to work on time. Instead, go with someone that has to get back to work on your day off so you can watch them squirm (Sorry!!) Also, the Grilled Shrimp sandwhich may very well be one of the hardest sandwhiches to eat. It said it came with lettuce, I saw the lettuce, but by the time the sandwhich got to my mouth nary one piece of lettuce got there with it. Stupid me, should have tucked.

Time to go beat up some kids...this martial arts is great, I sometimes pretend that the kids are midgets, and that's all right!

Texas? What's a Texas?

I love Texas. It's hot. It's humid. November 7 in Austin feels like August 7 in Peoria, and August 7 in Texas feels like you've fallen into the bowels of hell. I was there this past weekend, it was 90 freaking degrees when I left on Monday....it was 50 when I landed in Peoria. Yes, I'm a cold-weather person, so scraping my windshield this morning was better than running your air conditioner on New Years Eve.

Still, when it's that hot outside all there is to do is sit inside and drink. And sleep, then wake up and drink some more. Not sure why I thought my 33 year old body could still act like it was 18, but after the 5 Caffreys, 2 shots of Petrone, bottle of wine, daquiris, margaritas, cosmopolitins, and god knows what else I drank after that (for some reason things got real hazy about then) Saturday night/Sunday morning (I didn't get to bed until 8am), Sunday was a lost cause. I woke up at 2pm, threw up, went back to bed until 4, threw up, laid on the couch until 6, threw up, then finally forced dinner down. Sadly, dinner was really good since I was too hungover to enjoy it...luckily it stayed down. It took until Tuesday morning before I felt okay. I'm old and pathetic, yes.

Still, Gina has refreshed my Caffrey's supply so I'm feeling good. My liver feels somewhat recovered from the weekend, though it is warning me to take it easy for a while.

Texas has become my bastion of freedom. What happens there better stay there (if you're reading this Steve), because noone here needs to know how quickly I get booed off the stage in XBox Karaoke, about my glass jaw (that dog had a hard head), about hot nurses that are ready to party, or the job offer at Dell.

Maybe if it wasn't for Sam, the heat, and the fact that I really enjoy paying state taxes I'd consider the move, but as it is I think I'll stay in the midwest for now. My liver couldn't take many more weekends like that!