"sometime" is a dangerous word

There are very few things that I won’t agree to if you tack a “sometime” on the end of the request.

“You should watch New Moon with me sometime.”

“You might need to give me a kidney sometime.”

“You should let me tie you to a hotel bed and work you over with a ping pong paddle sometime.”

Those would work.  Hell, the last would would work without the “sometime.” You know what I’m sayin’?  Yoooou know.

*Peter makes “call me” hand gesture*

A while back Jenn asked for a guest post.  Sometime.   I agreed.  And gave it as much thought as Godzilla gave the people of Tokyo.

“What’s on TV tonight?  Did I just step on something?”

Or as much thought as Tiger Woods gave his family.

[I hate cheaters. HATE.  So I am pissed off on that level.  But, also, a tiny voice on the “Dude” side of my personality is all “Man, you are the greatest golfer EVER.  You have more money than Bob Saget.  Your name is Tiger!  Your wife is like a dream wrapped in a fantasy, slathered with cutesexy!  And you are pulling chicks that I could get.  Come on.”  You were thinking it too.  Don’t lie.]*

Anyway, Jenn called in her marker, so she got a guest post.

You should go read it.  And leave comments.  Unless the comments have nothing to do with how adorable I am.  Because, really, what’s the point of that?

Oh.  And there are pics of me as a little dude.

* I was going to leave that part out because I think it makes me sound like a complete jerk.  But then I shut off comments anyway, so you can’t tell me.  Hee hee.

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