It's the end of the year again, and once again I'm stuck sick in the apartment with lung clap. Juice and amoxicillin, which is like napalm for bacteria. I can feel entire villages of them being burned screaming alive in the jungles of my lungs. It's a good feeling.
The Packers! They are 13 and 3, and I'm not going to talk about that last third. So there's a chance we'll be in Arizona playing the Colts, yeah! An unbelievable year. The Favre family chili, incidentally, is more a hamburger etouffee. The can of cream of mushroom soup acts as a roux.
I'm spending this penultimate evening of 2007 looking up nostalgic crap on YouTube. Old clips of Mike Rowe on QVC? Sure.