(Regarding yesterday)

To my quadriceps: Oh, stop your complaining. All we did was climb a stupid cliff. You're such babies. Why can't you be more like the hamstrings?

To the US Steel company: You're going to need to put up a much bigger gate than that if you want me to stay off your land.

To the Coffee Artists: Your art opening embodied everything I love and respect about art -- free wine.

To Paul Lundgren: Not only did you say THAT, but you said it REALLY LOUD. It was awesome.

To the girl who gave me her number without my asking: Things like this make me suspicious. This means you 1) Liked me, 2) Admitted it to yourself, and 3) Admited it to me. Where's the ten levels of defensive nervousness and juvenile game-playing? Didn't we skip a step here?

To that girl's friends: You are so lame.

To my camera: C'mon, now. I know for a fact that my last public act of the evening was to drunkenly photograph my reflection in that shiny chrome thing. I was really looking forward to seeing that this morning. Where is it? Huh? Because I couldn't possibly have made a mistake in that condition.

To the pizza guy: You're gonna need to pound on Starfire's door a lot harder than that at 2am if I'm gonna hear it all the way over here.