I thaw, I thaw. And pussies.

[captainsblog]

The car is washed. I had to move a hose out from the garage to do it, since the one rolled up in front of the house is still too frozzed on the inside, but a half a winter's worth of goo is now on the ground.  I know, this risks the entire weather pattern of the Eastern seaboard for the next week, especially since I'm heading to Binghamton next Thursday (still, farz I know), but it was getting hard to see through all that crap.

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This is the kind of shit that makes me understand why Letterman, Conan, Brokaw and a host of others left the GE-Universal International House of Pinheads:

It's always a miracle when I manage to get a VCR/DVR to record off its timer at all. This time, I screwed up by forgetting to set the timer for those goofy extra final minutes through 12:35, but I got the closing speech from the desk and saw the first few minutes of Will Ferrell's bit. S'aright- Ferrell's not one of my all-time favorites anyway (and he apparently has a reputation for being the Ted McGinley of late-night talk shows when he's a first-night guest, as he was for Conan). But when ohnotheydidnt posted a link to the full run of "Free Bird," I figured, what the hey, long as I'm here, I'd click through:


Sheesh. Couldn't you give your lawyers ONE freakin' day off and give the guy as much good run as he just gave you in his closing moments? Especially because it's all just a stupid game of Whack-a-Mole (registered trademark of Rodents Unlimited) since the damn thing just shows up under a different link five minutes later? So yeah. I've seen it. I've heard it. I'm not going to Hulu to watch it with a commercial for Jimmy Fallon stuck in front of it.  And I'm certainly not going to be tuning in next week.

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Desk is about half-clear. Considering what it looked like right after my last post, that's quite an accomplishment.

Comments

[liddle-oldman.livejournal.com]

Desk is about half-clear.

Well, now that you have your hose out...

[captainsblog.livejournal.com]

I sorta already tried that the other night, when I baptized about 20 percent of one of the piles with my Friday night refreshing beverage of choice (my equivalent of the 20-year-old aged cream soda apparently preferred by Tom Hanks).

Unfortunately, it had all dried off by morning.

Now if flamethrowers worked to wash cars, I'd really have a two-for-one thing going here.