Nothin much

--Today I witnessed the absolute worst office chorus "Happy Birthday" in the history of organized labor. It had a void of enthusiasm similar to the birthday cake scene from "Office Space," but without any of the coordination of voices. We had four different groups singing the same song at the same time, yet each group was 5 words off from the others. It sounded like we were playing a record backwards, "happy birthday, dear Michael" becoming "zz-iv-en-nee-sar Michael is dead tors-en-sloop-quax-en-fice..." And at least the characters in "Office Space" actually ate the cake, except Milton of course but that wasn't by choice. As soon as our pathetic rendition of the easiest song ever was over, half the gathering emptied out of there like someone had just farted on the cake. Really, really sad. The cake fit the rest of the effort too. The plastic lid came off it about 30 seconds before the guest of honor came over. There was a totally random and meaningless number of candles plopped on there. No need to avoid messing up the custom writing of "Happy Birthday, Michael" because there was nothing of the sort. And the poor guy is one of the longest tenured, nicest guys on the show. I can't wait for my birthday. It's gonna be 5 people huddled around a Nutri-Grain bar with a single match stuck in it. They probably won't even sing "Happy Birthday." They'll probably sing some generic, made-up birthday song like the TV shows that don't want to pay the royalties for the real McCoy. All the more reason to play hookie that day, I think.

--It occured to me over the weekend that the Yankees are really the Ed Hardy of baseball. Nauseatingly expensive, overpriced, superficial, tasteless, soulless, and yet incredibly popular. Wearing Ed Hardy really defines you as a person, though not the way those wearing it think it does. So does rooting for the Yankees*. I think Bill Simmons put it best when he said "rooting for the Yankees is like rooting for the house in blackjack."

*Amanda excluded from this thesis