Back from the grave...

I just got back from Dallas. It's been a busy week.

I think Dallas has the most intuitive homeless people I've ever seen. Yesterday one turned to me and said, "You don't live here."

I said, "That's amazing. You're right. I live in Kansas City."

He said, "That's great. Welcome to Dallas. Now get out of my box."


I found out that the series I was in was picked up by the Horror Channel and Elite Entertainment. That's right, bitches. I'm straight to DVD and satelite TV.


Did also some commentary on 610 Sports:

Long time caller, first time sober. I got to tell you, these gas prices are killing me. My bank account is shrinking faster than Jason Grimsley's testicles. Even this poor guy at the Independence Quik Trip could barely afford his gas. He said, "Give me $2 on pump number four and a git-r-done lighter."

To save gas, I've been walking every where. But it's been so hot that by the time I get to where I'm going I'm sweating like Vince Young at the Wonderlic.

Every day the same old man comes peddaling by. He says, "Hey kid. Hop on. You can sit on my handlebar." I say, "No way. I'm not falling for that trick again. You and your stupid unicycle..."

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