I want to be Matt Leinart. Make globs of money, nail ASU co-eds while rehabing injuries, and have two all-pro WRs waiting in case you decide to take this playing football thing seriously. Visit The Dirty.com (probably NSFW) for the pics.
So, who's coming over to my place this weekend to shovel the driveway?
I offer homemade chocolate chip bars, two adorable kids that will serve drinks with a smile their mother gave them, and all the Guitar Hero you can handle! If bored from Tom Morello kicking your ass, you can always toss the malcontent fat cat to see if he always lands on his feet.
This weekend I was supposed to be enjoying the first 18 holes of the year with a good friend that recently returned from Iraq. Mother nature decided that April wasn't soon enough to close down winter for the year so we'll be stuck playing poker all-night, followed by micro-stakes Euchre while chasing down Bacon McGriddles in the morning instead of plunking golf balls off woodland creatures due to a slice that would have David Feherty wondering why you like to light money on fire by buying golf clubs and paying green fees.
BBT3 rolls on to the Mookie this evening which I will not be playing in. After my snapping in the girly chat box last night it was clear I need a rest until drunken poker night tomorrow.