Day Seventeen

Dear Readers,
      I know I am boring a good portion of you with my obsession with the 49ers right now, but I don't care.  My 49ers finally got some love today, from Jim Rome of all people.  If you are asking yourself "Who is Jim Rome?", you don't watch sports.  Jim Rome is one of my favorite sports radio and television hosts.  He is a realist.  He doesn't pull any punches, in fact I think most of the time he is looking for more punches to throw.  Of all the sports talk guys, he is the one who gave the 49ers their credit and the belief that they could go all the way.  So, needless to say, I was pretty happy to hear all he had to say about the football games just played and about to be played this Sunday.  He gave credit to Alex Smith, without going over the top.  He gave credit to the defense, saying it was the most fundamentally sound defense he had seen in a long time.  So again I have to say, who's got it better than us? Nobody! Clones, out. (Have to know Jim Rome to know the last line)
      I started writing too late tonight and am too tired to think.  So here is another story about myself.  On one certain day at work, probably about a year ago or so, it was a particularly bad day.  To the point that a co-worker, Josh, and I were discussing plans on what kind of business we could start to get out of our current situation.  We talked about a wide range of ideas, but none that could be seriously contemplated.  At one point I went to use the bathroom and came up with a brilliant idea for us.  I came out totally serious and told him I just had an epiphany.  That we could start a band with him, two other guys we work with and me.  He could play guitar, another guy could sing, someone else could play bass and I could play the drums, or something along those lines.  His exact words to me were "That has to be the worst idea you have come up with. Don't ever think while sitting on the toilet again."  Crushed my dreams.  Kind of like my wife if you ask me.  So, moral of the story, don't do any serious thinking or contemplating while sitting on the toilet.  Bad for the brain.
                   No beard leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to the dark side.

He would only be Randy without the beard.

Why else?