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once again, i have worked on the weekend.  there was a time in my life that i would have preferred to forcibly remove puppy ears than work for even a moment on my weekend (as opposed to "the weekend, " meaning friday evening through sunday night).  now, they didn't even ask me to, i just came in saturday because i needed to catch up and sunday because there was a truck coming in.  ok, to be fair, i came in saturday in the hopes that the truck would come in, and then stayed because i was up, and the dogs were walked, and what else was i going to do?  then i came in on sunday to show my trucking company i mean business when i say i need that product yesterday.  the whole thing was primarily so i wouldn't have to go pour wine with a businessy jerk at the st. louis wine festival.  in that, it was a success.  in watching every second of the cardinals astros came, it was a miserable failure.  the truck arrived at game time, so i didn't get back to the house until the fourth inning or so.  and then we fucking lost, at least somewhat due to bad umpiring.

since everyone seems to pretty much agree with my feelings on bush (approval rating in the mid thirties!), i think i'll give him a slight break. 

dry hump bush.

fuck with all violence and filth and a louisville slugger (nlcs game 4 home plate umpire) cuzzi.