Man, its going to be another late night. I am such a procrastinator. Tonight's late night is brought to you by the letters ENGL and the numbers 210. I have to do an audience profile on the job that I'm going to be "applying" for. I was supposed to have already turned in the job advertisement I'm going to use, I just found out, so I went on Monster.com and found some web designing position for Travelocity.com. I like to use computer based subjects for my papers because its easier to bullshit since my prof doesn't know anything about the internet, I've gathered. My last memo proposal about creating a new layout for the company website got me an 82 cause she couldn't tell that 80% of what I said didn't even make any sense. Ah the perks of random jargon. Hopefully I can churn this out in about 30 minutes and be in bed by 2am. I have class tomorrow at 8, and then at 9:10. Then I have an Intel Training course from 12:40 to 2:40. Then I'm meeting with Bob to teach him more about making a website (the prof I'm working for now). Then I have like an hour or two to chill before open lab hours start for ENTC249 (the class that consumes my life). On the plus side though, I've reassessed our progress and decided that my team is ahead of schedule. Thats a first and it feels good. I hate to be an asshole, but every time I hear another team bitching about not having something done, it makes me feel really really good ... provided we have ours working. Oh well, I suppose I've stalled long enough, time to start working.

On a side note, everyone click here to send Steve a shoutout. Today is his 20th birthday, and I just know he'd love to have some well wishes from loyal Sidesho-Viewers. Thanks!

So, I have a stoy about my Dad…well, I mean, OUR Dad, and I wanted you to know what kind of shananigans he’s up to. We were eating dinner tonight, just me and him. He made chicken tenders and peas and waffle fries a la Chick-Fil-a. They were okay. Well, Dad was bitching to me about getting a job and why don’t I have a job and that I needed a job. So, I changed the subject, and I asked, “So how was your day.” He says, “Fine, I went to my job. You should get a job.” I got fucking pissed off, and I didn’t know what to say, so I did what I felt I needed to do. I threw a chicken finger at him. From the other side of the table, it hit him square on the forehead. Damn he was mad. You know how Dad can be. What a jokester.

Ryan’s comment is dumb. I heard that story three times. It is not any better in print.

I hope you burn in hell.