Actually, this is sounding less like a bar - or roadhouse - than someplace I want to move into.

How many more days do I have left??

::head desk head desk head desk::

the cabana boys can give massages and pedicures.

Also a good point.

If you can get Christian Kane to sing, an occasional shirtless Gunn shouldn't be beyond you.

The singing is a matter of raising enough money to buy a bar and then enough to hire Kane (the band).

Okay, you have a point about the relative unattainability of both goals....

Actually, you're describing the official drinking spot on Buffista Island.

I vote you assume that by the time you have the bar and the money to hire Kane as the house band, JAR will have given up acting for cage-dancing.

Nope, but given the tendency of the judge to break stemware, you'd be getting them in a well-chilled rocks glass.

This would be good, considering my tendency to spill them after the first one.

Things accomplished today: Unpacked another box(no idea what to do with what I unpacked yet), installed Microsoft Office, and filled out financial aid paperwork.

"Now you can tell him when he's older that he used to suck on pap smear sticks!"

That along with the pacifier twirling makes me think he'll be the George Clooney of his day. Seriously.

Kristin, get some rest. (well, you probably already are, just agreeing you should)

I'm home sick today, my throat feels like its been massaged with sandpaper and I'm pretty sure I'm running a fever.

I'd stay put all day except Dallas has a vet appointment tonight. We're going to my old vet in Astoria because her currend vet is, I suspect, bananas for wanting to send her to an oncologist and do radical surgery without even doing a biopsy on a dog who has had cysts removed before. (see, if you disturb the tissue with a biopsy and it is bad well then, you're not going to have as good an outcome as if you assume its cancer and remove half the dog's abdomen because she has little bumps AGAIN). I'm pretty much trying to not cry quite a bit. The dog, of course, has no clue. Heh.

Life is unfair -- this is shooting right across the street from my office, and yet there is no Chris Rock or Gina Torres there. (It's a second unit.)

Ok. Sometimes, I wonder about my classmates. One posted this on the subject of outsourcing:

I'm in So.Cal. and I can tell you that many jobs that used to be for small mom and pop shops or teenagers are now strictly for illegal immigrants. Where I'm located at a basic 4 bedroom house goes for over 800 thousand dollars and many middle class families cannot afford to purchase one, but many are being sold to illegal immigrants because they will put up to 30 people in a house and are not held to the laws as citizens would be.

Huh? If a person is in this country illegally, they don't have a soc sec number. If they don't have a SS#, they can't have reported income. Which means, no tax returns, no bank, nothing which would enable them to purchase an $800k house.

Right? I'm not thinking with the crack-brain?

Uh, I think you're right, Aimee.

Also, "where I'm located AT" made my brain hurt.