Frozen Friday

I'm stressed to the max with a problem at work. If any of your are experts in javascript, ASP.NET and C# I'd appreciate if you'd come by my office and take a look at this damned error I keep getting. I get no feedback from the debugger on it.

Naturally, as I write this I'm fighting the need to poop. It's freezing outside and yet the ground is warm and the puddles are all still splashy enough to soak your shoes and socks so the wind can freeze them solid around your feet. I'm supposedly giving up coffee and yet I have a cup sitting here on my desk. I haven't touched it, but I'm tired and I have to figure this damned problem out.

Did I mention that I need to poop?

I wonder why I ever tell anyone that? What exactly possesses a man's brain to compel him to blog about needing to poop? I'll bet I've blogged about my poop more consistently than anything else I've ever said.

A coworker turned on the radio in the conference room next to my office and right now Bing Crosby is bellowing a Christmas song. If this were Chicago the Christmas Police would rush in and smash it. They say Christmas is no place for Christmas, you know? Yeah, figure that one out.

Why do we now have pro football on Thursdays, Sundays and Mondays? I realize Disney/ABC/ESPN/GAY bought the rights to Monday Night Football and turned it into a platform for their religious views, but is that the reason Fox created Thursday Night Football? Is there really a big enough audience available for a Thursday night game every week?

Did anyone else notice that on one of the NFL games this past weekend the reporters ran into the locker room filming and showed a player standing there totally stark naked? What the fuck is up with that? First 60 Minutes shows two totally naked men tied to a pole being whipped by women with cat-o-nine-tails, even showing their genitals like some bad network S&M porn flick on prime time, and now the networks are racing into the locker rooms to show naked sweaty men trying to get dressed after a game. What's next?

Some people asked me my zodiac sign after I posted yesterday's zodiac chart. I'm an Aquarius. There's this horrible '60s song about us that I try to avoid as much as possible. I think it's from the movie "Hair" which is another thing I try to avoid as much as possible. Looking at most of the films the Baby Boomers produced during this period makes me wonder how we weren't conquered by the Soviet Union and China during the early '70s. I guess it was the old WWII generation guys still running around or something? I don't know.

So anyway, Aquarius is a water-pourer and is from late January to early February. This is an odd combination of signs and times to me. Maybe whomever created the zodiac lives in Florida or something 'cause in Memphis I can tell you that no one is pouring water outside in late January or early February. It's all frozen. And no way in hell anyone is running around in a toga carrying a jar of it to pour out onto the ground like in all the images I see representing my "sign." It's too freakin' cold for togas or buckets of water and unless you're just trying to freeze the sidewalk to slip up the mailman you won't be pouring any on the ground.

I'm not real into that whole zodiac thing, in case you couldn't tell. But I did get a lovely fortune cookie the other day. It had deep thoughts on one side and lottery numbers on the other side. Yeah, woo hoo! This cookie is gonna make me rich!

So, it's now 10:30 and I still haven't made any headway on my problem. I still haven't pooped. I'm still stressed. And I sure don't want to go into this weekend with this strange error hanging over my head for my boss to ask me about on Monday. This damn thing is driving me crazy.

OK, there is a new Christmas song playing and I have no idea who this is, but it sounds suspiciously like standard old country music to me. I don't feel any connection between country music and Christmas. I just don't. I feel a connection between the music from Charlie Brown Christmas and Christmas, but not country music. Even when Faith Hill or whomever is specifically singing a Christmas song I still don't hear it as Christmas music. I just hear her voice and say "hey, that's Faith Hill. I'd do her." And then I go back to what I was doing, vaguely aware that someone is playing country music in the background.

OK, "Grandma got run over by a reindeer" just came on. This is a real Christmas song. Everyone knows that. So I think now I'll go poop and try to get back to work. Maybe I can get to the potty and back before the song ends?
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