Thursday, May 05, 2005
p.o.b + p.m.g = s.o.l.
oh, pat. a fine mess you got yourself into.
i giggle and squirm uncomfortably every time i hear that croaky, south dakota accent ["you are soo haat!"] on the voicemail. god, man -- what were you thinking?
last night, i watched dr. phil basically hand you your ass only to kiss it shamelessly at the very end. i sat on my couch by myself and laughed like a loon at your poor, down-trodden [but clearly surgically enhanced] expression. at one point, some scruffy young man soliciting for donations came to my door giving me a lengthy, mumbly spiel about contributing to his worthy cause. i could feel my teeth gritting as i politely held the door open. i felt like screaming, "can't you see i'm watching pat o'brien get reamed right now?!" and slamming the door in his face.
as i drove back from the y last night, i noticed the "the insider" billboard at the end of my street, plastered with your big smarmy mug. you look sheepish, almost penitent, as though you knew when the photo was taken what was to come.
Posted by P at 2:09 PM