The rain falls softly on the metal roof. OJ is currently in jail for a B and E. I inhaled eight tacos and a bowl of green chili with Team Hofkamp during the Broncos game yesterday. Two homeless guys just walked by our office window with four shopping carts full of cans that were covered with assorted tarps and bungee cords yet neither were wearing a rain slicker or a poncho. I get free Brothers BBQ for lunch today. We just learned that one of our freelance designers is a con-artist and wanted for fraud. Pumpkin pie sounds delicious.

Labels: funk, random

The wife after seeing me in a hockey jersey, baggy shorts and catching the stink of cologne on me:

"Look at you, getting all dressed up for work."

The hockey jersey, baggy shorts and cologne are a modified version of the Italian Shower, which, in its truest essence, a monochromatic tracksuit, a drenching in Armani cologne and at least four pieces of gold jewelry (which must consist of a watch, a ring, a bracelet and a crucifix necklace). A more accurate description of my slovenliness is a cross between an Italian Shower and a Navy Bath; which is hand soap and sink water splashed about the armpits and genitals than liberally dried and a caked-on or over-sprayed deodorant application. Either way, it is time for me to take a shower.

Labels: funk, italian shower, l-i-v-i-n, navy bath, wife

It is a dreary day in Denver today as the sky is overcast and it is raining. This somber backdrop seems to have affected my mood as I find myself reading soul-crushing links about the lives of juvenile sex crime investigators. Not surprisingly, most pedophiles have an affinity for Star Trek.

Labels: denver, funk, geekery, perversion