My New Year's resolution was to be an even bigger asshole

I finally found the website I needed. Most places that make custom silicone "message" wristbands have a minimum order of 100, but shanrene.com will make just one for you if you want, for $2.99.

For those who don't know the background, a guy we'll call "R" pulled an amazingly chickenshit attempted anonymous backstab on me at work a couple of years ago. This is a limp-dicked vegan douchebag who, at the end of the day, never seems to have actually done anything. He's a fucking empty chair.

Anyway, I figured I would mimic those What Would Jesus Do bracelets with a wristband that says WDRD, asking the not-really-rhetorical question, "What Does R Do?" Which also echoes the classic line from Office Space: "What would you say you do here?"

So wristbands have been distributed to the many co-workers who have wondered the same thing. It's a bit of a long way to go just to be a prick, especially for someone as allegedly lazy as me, but like the Livestrong ones, it's for a good cause.

Maybe you had to be there

Walking to work today, I found myself behind two women, attractive but not too out of the ordinary. Ugg boots, tight jeans, short ski-style jackets, Nordstrom bags -- typical Saturday downtown shoppers. As they strolled innocently past some steps, an old homeless woman spat out, "Look, it's the happy hookers!"

I could see them kind of stop in surprise for a half-moment, then keep going, because what was there to do? As they went by, the old woman said disapprovingly, "Look like whores."

I gave her a dollar.

I can't explain this to you.

I think you have to be pretty spectacularly lazy for this next anecdote to even make sense. You might not understand how it's even possible. But at the deli today, when the guy asked if I wanted lettuce and tomato on my egg salad sandwich, I was actually too lazy to tell him, "just tomato." I just grunted and ate the lettuce. It's insane. But sometimes I feel compelled to do the absolute minimum possible.

If Generalized Anxiety Disorder is real, there has to be a Chronic Laziness Syndrome. I'm a victim, dammit.

Svetochka mailed me these

I have to admit, what I really do miss is that electric fan, which I accidentally trashed one night when I was trashed. It was a good one. It was older than I am, old enough to totally not be kid-safe. The blades aren't protected by a tight cage like you'd see today. Look at those gaping holes (still talking about the fan).



And I miss that view from the balcony, too. I might have to move again.