Playing Hooky!

Between you, me and the wall, diary, I'm leaning towards skipping tomorrow's game... already made up a back injury and everything. We're playing the Charlotte Bobcats. Damned if I've ever heard of them, but Keith Smart said they're pretty good at defense, and, well, I need to sit through some boring defensive basketball game like I need a hole in my head. Plus the squad is just kind of depressing right now. Larry Riley keeps saying he'll get me some useful players out of the D-League, but all he keeps signing are these big tall freaks. It's like our locker room is some sort of gigantism tent show. What is the deal with this D-League, anyway? I wonder if that's the league these Bobcats play in.

I may go finally check out this "Avatar" deal, just to get Baron off my back. He's lucky I'm even talking to him after that "Where The Wild Things Are" fiasco he subjected me to... he said this film featured a planet with a different level of gravity, though, and it's hard for me to turn that down. That's Baron for you: he can always find the winning play.

So, yep, it's either "Avatar", or getting piss-drunk at home in my number-one chair, econo-carton of Parmesan Goldfish balanced on my belly, ready to pour. Anything but the Golden State Warriors. Jesus lord, that team is pathetic.

Log 1.29.10

Two days after every State of the Union address I work out my orbital bones.

* 30 socket push-ups

* 10 cross-eyes w/ resistance

* 40 skwunches

* 8 left hooks to own face (right eye)

* 8 right hooks to own face (left eye)

* 30 seconds direct flame exposure

* 1 2.5-lb slab of raw silken tofu

* 4 oz water (it was my cheat day)

Legit. Fucking. Amazing.

OKAY NOW U ARE JUST MESSIN WITH ME

did computers break over the nU year or sumthin? like did y2k kick in a decade late? becuz THERE IS NO WAY THAT I AM NO BULLSHIIT EMMETT CULLEN

Pics From My Christmas Vacation

If you ask me, there's only one place to spend the holidays.

my dumb christmas

coach told us we should all take a two week holiday break from our diaries because only creeps write in diaries during christmas. well believe me taking a diary break was not a problem for ole cj. i had about the dumbest lamest christmas you can imagine.

i thought itd be nice to hang out with the injured guys. so i brought a bunch of thai food to the rehab facility where buike and bwright are doing their thing. thought maybe we could go to a movie or something. when i got there bwright took one look at me and grabbed the bags of thai food out of my hands and slammed the door in my face. when i asked the physical therapists if there was some kind of prank going on they just gave me the finger. even the mormon ones.

so i called an audbile. figured id go back to a vols practice and show the kids a thing or two. but when i got there they wouldnt even let me into the practice facility. the registrar said there was no record of a charles watson ever having gone to that school. and i was like come on even if something happened to my records there must have been other charles watsons just think about the math. you can guess what happened next. stiff cup check from the registrar. to make matters worse his secretary was crouched down behind me and the pain of the cup check made me tumble over her. classic schoolboy trip. they laughed and laughed. i was escorted off campus.

so then i figured fine family it is. went to my aunts house in ann arbor. i bought her a fancy french cookbook and some transformers for her kids. as soon as i get in the door wham. stinging cup check from my little cousin dwayne. aunt sheila and the kids spent most of the afternoon threatening to curbstomp me and i knew they wouldnt but after a couple hours i still peed myself more from exhaustion than fear. hilarity ensued as you can imagine. never heard what sheila thought about the cookbook.

i spent most of new years eve being punched in the face by some diabetic women.

and now 2010 is off to a real dogshit start. im slumping and my individual winning percentage is down to 482 which is still a damn shit better than currys but i guess it doesnt matter because i dont have a gq column or incredible creamy skin. i bet if theyd just traded me to orlando id be killing it right now and have tons of friends and a nice girl to watch movies with. instead im stuck here on a bad team with vladimir radmanovic farting on my head every ten minutes.

a man can only take so much before breaking ive heard it said

Takin' Out The Trash

So I guess you heard by now that I got cut, Diary. Ain't no thing; Chris Hunter is a good young kid, and I hope he has a nice career. Plus, fuck basketball. Because even though Copenhagen was a bust and this public-option-free AetnaCare™ monstrosity is about to pass, I've got a warm, fuzzy progressive feeling right now. One reason why? I'm not the only guy who's about to be out of a job.

GTFO, Dodd, you Wall-Street-cozyin' bitch! I'm not a huge Blumenthal guy, but at least he's baggage-free. And Dorgan... look, Dorgan was a pretty liberal vote for NDak, but I'm getting tired of dudes like that. It's like Kos sez -- better to have 50 liberals than 70 Democrats. Tents should only grow so big. Addition by subtraction. You heard it here first, diary.

But that's not the really exciting thing. As soon as this bone spur situation clears up, I'm headin' down to the FEC and starting my own political action committee! That's right, diary -- after years of talk, we're finally getting MikkiPAC off the ground. I don't turn 35 till November, but there's no time like the present to start laying foundations and glad-handing. I still haven't decided if I want the Green Party nomination or if I want to splinter-sect that shit. A lot of it comes down to whether or not I come up with a cool enough name for a separatist party. Top two choices right now: "DINOS No Moore" and "Mikki No Likey Regulatory Capture". Both good, but maybe there's something better. If you come up with any ideas, diary, lemme know.

Gotta jet... cleaning out my political closet this weekend, making sure we're good skeleton-wise. First order of business: figuring out if my cleaning lady is an illegal or not.