After a marvellous weekend in San Diego, dragging my draggy butt to work on a sweltering hot Monday morning is a bitter pill to swallow. SD is two and a half hours closer to the equator but it is 20 degress cooler down there than it is up here in the valley.

I can see a bunch of road workers from my window being scorched by the big blow torch in the sky. They almost look like shrimp on a Tepanyaki grill. If the A/C were to go out for 5 minutes here in the office, there would be an outrage and everyone would start crying like babies in wet diapers.

My smiley weekend was somewhat marred by a twat deprived cop who issued me a $340 parking ticket. I parked my car in the blue for awhile to squeeze some cash from my already dehydrated ATM account. I was only a few feet away, my car engine was still grumbling… heck I could have been out of there faster than the milkman out the window following a husband’s return.

And to further establish himself as a world class dick head, the police officer opted to give Bob a ticket as well. Bob was still in his car, his engine was running and we were all on our way to Bob’s brithday dinner.

Other highlights of my weekend include Jen Skanky pouring beer all over my face when she attempted to stream beer into my mouth as I lay on the ground, Brian Murray getting naked at the Boulevard, finding April’s bra in the morning and Ketty feeding me Kellogg’s Corn Pops with her toes.

I’ve been spun around so much at work today I think I caught a glimpse of my ass crack. We launched the new PDS web site today. Two web sites actually since we have a Flash and an HTML version.

I wonder if it should be “a HTML” or “an “HTML”. Anyone who has the answer to that question can email me with that piece of their mind.

I’ll be spending the weekend in San Diego. Yeah! (Pelvis pump). Red Channel Revue will be performing at The Boulevard.

I gave my apartment a makeover this weekend. The new addition to the apartment comes in the form of a big black table that is a tad to big for my already cramped living room. Julian and Hui Chin call it the v.i.r.g.i.n sacrificial table.

About an hour ago, I realized that the table was a little crooked and opted to move it by myself. I kinda dragged the darn thing over my foot when my arms lost strength and dipped for a split second. The cut was pretty long and deep. It’s really odd how you sometimes cut yourself so deep but there isn’t any blood for the first 15 seconds. And you just stare at the injury awaiting the inevitable.

After the incident, I just looked at the gash and said, “Okay, I know you’re going to bleed like a mofo. Just hurry it up will ya. Some of us have things to do here.” And then all of a sudden it just pours out and I go, “Oh, shit!,” as I desperately snatch at every piece of absorbent material within my reach to try and plug the leak.