No one dislikes boobs

First of all, let's not talk about cribbage with Terry.

My trip to Milwaukee was good. I got more information about a project I'm working on involving spreadsheets (calculating percentages and formulas and such). I like working with spreadsheets, which solidifys my place in the punk rock community. We had a gas-inducing lunch of greasy pizza and greasier garlic bread. I left early to come home to vote - our first time since moving to Appleton. I got registered with my address change and then proudly cast my vote for Dennis Kucinich. Marie is fully aboard the John Kerry train, but I still think he's an asshat. Voting for the Patriot Act and No Child Left Behind isn't my idea of leadership material. Howard Zinn once told me (and everyone else in the room that was listening to him speak) regarding the 2000 election that if you always vote for the lesser of two evils, you end up with permanent evil. Clearly Bush needs to go, but would Kerry be that much better? SNL wouldn't be as funny (and it's not that funny now) and I can't ignore his beautiful, flowing hair.

I was listening to WPR on the way home yesterday and the topic was gay marriage. A caller said that since it was deviant behavior, it shouldn't be allowed. Using that logic, if you don't masturbate you are a deviant. If you vote, you are deviant. If you don't drive a car to work, you are a deviant. If you don't eat meat, you are a deviant. If that's the new standard, laws will be getting mighty interesting.

Yes, using television ratings to decide who gets exterminated is a good idea.

So with tax day looming, I mentioned to Marie that it might be a good idea to use our tax refund on a digital camera and she agreed. Of course, little did I know that I'd be bitchslapped by the IRS this morning. I met with one of the tax managers at work and she went over our returns and we owe almost $1500. Um, yeah. Thanks for that tax cut, Mr. Bush! I'm going to go put my negative money to good use in this fine economy of yours!!

I wonder where Adam and Steve are registered

Holy fucking fuck! The poker shirt came in the mail today at work and it is beyond words. It's a little larger than I thought (as in, I could smuggle a desktop printer to the table without anyone noticing) but it will indeed provide the extra luck I need to come out at least $1.35 ahead each time we play poker. It should pay for itself in 14 or so years.

And it's clear that Scarlett Johansson reads me journal and, as a result, wants me. From http://www.imdb.com:

BAFTA winner Scarlett Johansson has discovered another downside of feeling older than her 19 years - men her own age are too immature to date. The self-confessed "woman trapped in a young body" - who has wowed Hollywood with her performance in Oscar-nominated Lost In Translation as a young wife falling in love with an older man - is frustrated with meeting men her own age, because she always has to make the first move. She says, "In the two relationships I have been in so far, I'm always the one to initiate a kiss. I don't mean that I don't get kissed back but most of the time a large chunk of it is me going in for the kiss. It's weird."

I can't tell you how many things are wrong with that situation. How do I break the news to Marie?