I Miss Sifl and Olly.

Right. So you know that makeup commercial. The one where the woman is hooked up to a lie detector and she has to answer questions about dating younger guys and lying about her age and all? You know that one? She is wicked hot. Anyone know who she is? If you are she...call me on the phone. She's as pretty as a ten-dollar bill.
So yeah. Friday night and I am sitting around watching Married With Children, wondering how I ever thought this show was funny. Al still has his moments. I still kinda want to bone Peggy. And I appreciate the show for bringing Applegate into my spank bank. But this show sucks a large part of the ass.
I need a life. But not really. I had a life. I don't remember most of it. I remember laughing a lot. I remember meeting a lot of nice people. I remember going to a lot of places. I don't remember what we were laughing about, who those people were or where the hell I was. Which is weird on account of the fact that I remember every page I ever read in a book, newspaper or anything else I read throughout that time. I think I might want to remember the next 26 years of my life. But no I don't. I don't know what the hell I want.
I want to win like 300 million in the power ball. I would just kick the proverbial "it." I would build a house. Build a church. I'd travel and all. I'd be the only millionaire without a date. I tell you the first thing I'd do. What I'd do is I'd go to Africa for a year or so. I'd follow the herds. I would love to watch the big cats hunt. Or when the antelope or whatever attempt crossing the river and the gators bust them up something fierce. Yeah. I would love to watch that shit.
But most likely after that I'd move to NYC. Get a nice place to call my own and live. I'd learn the subway and all. I'd probably just grow old. Leaving all of my grip to someone with more money than me. That would be funny. I'd leave all my money to Mr. Gates. Or Oprah.