If wealth were measured in T-shirts, I'd be Dick Cheney.
Rachel and I like to live like college students. Well, perhaps that "like to" bit is a stretch, but we definitely live on the cheap. We live in a cramped one-bedroom apartment, our TV and stereo are carried over from Rachel's high school days, and we do not own a chest of drawers.
In place of a chest of drawers, we have an enormous trunk to hold all our T-shirts, underwear and socks. Needless to say, the trunk becomes an unintelligible mass of cloth rather quickly.
Today, because I am the greatest husband in the world, I decided to organize the trunk as a sort of "welcome home" present. Nothing says, "I love you," like an organized trunk -- the diamond people don't want you to know that, but it's true.
As part of the organization process, I discovered that I am the proud owner of some 45 T-shirts. Good Lord, that's a lot of shirts. I could have gone through the entire Biblical flood without ever wearing a dirty shirt. AND I'd still have a few extra shirts for the first fair-weather workweek.
Oh, SURE Barbie and Ken are still good friends. That's why Ken can be found most nights -- tiny bottle of Stolichnaya in hand -- weeping into a stack of porn and screaming: "I hate Australia! Stupid Aussie bastards!"
And those naughty Polaroids that Ken has of Barbie? Perfectly legal.
Although, now that he's his a free man, Ken may want to try something new.
Please send space suits that work.
The ISS crew
As a card-carrying member of the Global Media Conspiracy, it is my responsibility to expose you to vitally important information.
Coral Pope has a drinking story that will top yours.
Once again, Hoke County gets the shaft.
Here's an example of very poor self assessment: "I'm no criminal, dude. I'm really a good kid."
I love this video of a chase suspect foiling cops' cool spin technique. The "Dukes of Hazzard" theme is a bonus.
Another video link: The intro to Van Halen's "You Really Got Me," performed on violin.
(Like the way I snuck that Amazon link in there?)