How Do The French Stay So Thin?

I bought this card yesterday. It was a mistake. The card I mean, not the purchasing of it. Someone did it as a joke or a jibe or perhaps a lark if you like. You can see Dubya in the crowd and Joe DiMaggio in the dugout. It was replaced with an official card which I also purchased from the same dude. I think I got a good deal on it, but in a sense it really doesn't matter. Ultimately what it gets me is no more excuses to go to Target. How I loathe that place! But it is, nevertheless, the only place I know of to buy baseball cards. But I couldn't just go to buy baseball cards because that would be weird. So I had to get other things just to make it seem credible. And now I have things. Things like a casserole dish. And a mixing bowl. And a DVD player that doesn't really work all that well. More importantly I have a stack of baseball cards I couldn't possibly want. You know when you buy baseball cards they don't just come with Yankees. There are other players from other teams. Some of them rather unfortunate. Well I seem to have eliminated that mess altogether. Oh yeah, Anonymous D, this card will be coming in the mail for me so do please keep an eye out for it.

I'm slightly depressed, despondent or maybe just pissed off. I work with crooks. It's really so obvious I'm not even afraid to say it. Well I work with one crook in particular. He's about 5 feet tall and presumably feels his vertical challenges entitle him to cheat people. What's more he seems to be under the impression that I don't know what he's doing. Even worse still he always says hello to me when he walks past my office thinking in quite the most delusional way that I would be seen conversing with a crook. No thank you. Now I'm beginning to think that his salutations are nothing more than an act of petty defiance. He can seriously go fuck himself though. Watching Korean television all day while I have to slog through this boring ass shit. Bollocks!

Ooh ooh! Compadre came over last night, and we listened to music, and gossiped, and drank some beers, and he made grilled cheese triangles, and then I put in a historical documentary, and he was so out of there. That was kinda nice.

I read this and I thought it was amusing. Apparently fakes are the new status symbol. Fake Louis, fake Fendi, fake Chloe, fake all of it. Some companies are bringing lawsuits in a vain attempt to cling to their relevance via exclusivity. I'm not sure though. I don't remember anything in law school about you being able to sue yourself back into being cool. But I suppose they know better.