Two Deadly Sins Down ... Five To Go!

Today the mail stork brought a birthday card from my uncle. The cover picture is a shot glass against a white background. It's full of tan liquor, probably tequila. The inside says, "Cake is for wussies." You know what that makes my uncle? An enabler. A thoughtful, caring, wonderful, awesome enabler.

Mmmm. I just got to the Kahlua layer in my badly mixed White Russian.

I bought something today, something cool. I bought an Essential Folio. Toffee, for those of you playing the home game. It's a gift to myself from myself for my business trip. It's my portable tangible courage, as opposed to White Russians, which don't travel well. The milk curdles, you know?

Kingdom of Loathing, Yeah, KOL. Level 10, Pastamancer. Over 200,000 meat. Doing pretty well. Thanks for asking. I've got a store in the mall called "The Seedy Underbelly." Eh, it's a living.

Remember that show? Ann Jillian? It's a Living? I do.

If lip-synching were an Olympic sport, I'd mop the floor with you. Hell, I'm doing it right now. And in my head, man, I'm the coolest cat you ever seen. To keep my game strong, sometimes I practice in front of a mirror. I keep a rigorous training schedule. Oh the emotions I emote! I make you cry. I am a machine of barely contained euphoria, motherfucker.

Because this entire entry is turning into "Look at me, I'm jump-starting the economy with my frivolous spending!" I'll give ya one more to hold against me. On Saturday I'm driving down to Ikea to purchase a cabinet. And yes, Karen, it was your idea. You get mad props. Ever since I saw it in the corner of your living room, I thought, you (and by you I mean cabinet) will be mine. Oh yes ... shall be mine.

The whole Ikea thing is a story unto itself. I've got one word for Ikea, and it's a word that flows trippingly off the tongue: cocktease. Let's just say that what they list as being "in stock" on their website means: "We're lying and you fell for it you sad, stupid bastard."

I also invented a new phrase at Ikea. And that phrase? Swedish meatballing. I'll use it in a sentence for the less imaginative.

• I wasn't born yesterday. Stop Swedish meatballing me!
• Sorry I was late. I just got Swedish meatballed.
• I'd Swedish meatball her in a heartbeat. (ladies, it also works for "him")
• Swedish meatballs killed my family.
• Now that's what I call: Swedish meatballing!!!

I'll be putting my collection of action figures in the cabinet. That's right. I said action figures. The William Shakespeare, the Edgar Allen Poe, the Nightmare Before Christmas, and the entire Simpson universe will figure prominently. Who wants to touch me?