Okay, that's just a little bit awesome.

Last night my brother and his buddy were bored and hungry, so they decided to drive to New Jersey to a White Castle for sliders.

Considering that I didn't get a giddy phone call at work in the middle of the night in which my brother just laughed nonstop for five minutes straight, I'm guessing that at no time last night did Neil Patrick Harris steal Bryan's car and proceed to do blow off a stripper's ass while doing wheelies on the highway.

I can't begin to describe how much that disappoints me.

You know what's the most awesome thing on the planet?

Sitting at home drinking a Smirnoff instead of going to work and ... you know, working.

I still felt like going out, though, so I went and picked up a few groceries and clothes and got my hair trimmed at a place where I had this picture of what looked frighteningly like a twelve-year-old Tom Welling smiling at me as if to say, "YAY! Now you'll be as pretty as meeeeeeee!" I still have to dye it but for now it doesn't look so much like a frayed rat's nest.

Oh, and I also picked up this really cute jacket with the Gap gift card I got for Christmas. It's got three-quarter length sleeves that fit my tiny little arms, too. And it's pretty warm, although with the weather the past few days that's not exactly my biggest problem.

I also discovered that my parents have a gigantic new flatscreen television. The first thing I did after seeing it was walk into my brother's room and declare, "I'm going to have sex with the new TV." My brother's response was pretty much, "Take a number. There's a line forming in the dining room."

And now I'm off to watch last night's Office and this week's Top Chef (which will definitely require some liquor), start downloading Ugly Betty episodes, and write some smut, since that's the tradition when I skip work -- get drunk and write porn. ;)

I'm just finishing this week's Top Chef.

Fuck Sam, fuck Ilan, and fuck Betty.

I'm talking Jonathan-and-Victoria and Weaver-family levels of hatred here. In the words of Cartman, "You get your bitch ass back in the kitchen and make me some pie." I'm boycotting any restaurant the three of them ever work at, and not just because it's safe to say I couldn't afford any of them.

They've all got a lot of fucking nerve saying Marcel's smug and condescending when WE'VE HEARD THEM SPEAK.

(And I'm not just saying this because I want to give Marcel a pity fuck.)