Well, how-dee everyone. Where the hell have I been? Working, I tell you. Working! Working so much that my time at Papa John's is starting to infect my dreams. For instance, this one dream I had went like this: I was working with this other guy, Steve, and we were taking pizzas off the oven. He accidentally drops a pizza on the ground and says, "Man, I feel like such a motard." I laughed for about 20 minutes (or so it felt in my dream). And, when I woke up, I still found myself laughing when I'd say "motard." Now, I don't approve of this popular vernacular that uses "gay" or "homo" to mean something stupid, nor do I think it's right to call something "retarded." But you've gotta admit, when you combine the two together, that's funny stuff right there.

Speaking of delivering pizzas, I've got the driver's tan on my left arm and the delivery man's bicep on my right arm. I think we all know the driver's tan that, when you take your shirt off, makes half your left arm look like it's burnt toast, but I think I'm the first to coin the (soon to be popular) phrase "delivery man's bicep." If you're looking for a great workout (for your arms), you can do the following exercise daily: When delivering a pizza, place 2-3 two liter sodas in a plastic bag. Once having a secure grasp on the bag, balance 3-7 pizzas on the palm of your hand. The trip from your car to the front door is enough to ensure a noticeably larger bicep on whichever hand you use to hold the sodas and pizzas. Bottom line: me with my shirt off (while normally a detesting image) is now just weird.

And how many times has this happened to you? You order a pizza but, oh no! How much are you going to tip the driver??? This question has plagued customers for all too long. Well, maybe not all customers, namely the ones that expect me to carry exact change around with me. But, to put all your woes to rest, I have devised:
BRIAN'S 2 DOLLAR TIP SYSTEM
1. Place your order
2. Note the time you have finished placing your order
3. Start with a bank of $10
4. For every 10 minutes that pass from your order time, remove a maximum of $2 from your bank
5. When the driver gets there, you will have your tip
Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Brian, you are insane!" But no, not really. Cause see, here's the thing. On slow days, I really take pride in the fact that I can get pizzas to people a mere 15 minutes after they order. That's amazing. How many people can say they've had super amazing service like that? Not many. So I expect to get tipped well for my super amazing service. But what are the chances of that happening? Not very good. Usually it takes more like 35-45 minutes. In which case the tip will be $2-$4 dollars. And that's quite an acceptable tip.

Shit. My job is consuming everything. This whole entry has been about work related stuff. That's sad. I really need to move on to something else.

So I was delivering pizzas the other day, and I was surrounded by idiots. Don't believe me? You soon will. I was waiting at this red light, and the person in front of my had a "W - '04" bumper sticker. Now, I don't wish this guy who's driving his over-compensating-for-something truck harm, but let's say I wouldn't really worry if his car were to tumble several times and exlpode. Yet, if I see someone with a John Kerry bumper sticker I just hope that they survive until the election. Funny how that works. Anyway, so that's the dingleberry in front of me. The guy to my left has a bumper sticker of Texas. Now, Texas might be really nice. But since my archetype of Texas is pretty much good 'ol George W, all I could muster was a surly exhale of breath upon spotting the sticker. But the guy behind me takes the cake. This guy should just be removed from human society forever. Him and Donny Osmand should be the first two humans to set foot on the sun. So what was so wrong with this guy? He's driving a P.T. Cruiser (strike 1) that's either been lowered or appears to be lowered because of its ridiculous looking bumper (strike 2) and is smoking (strike 3). You're out, man. Begone.

Ok. For real, I'm moving on to something non-work related.

I got some CDs from Suburban Home Records the other day. A really cool label, and they've got good stuff. No, no one from Suburban Home is gonna read this and send me free stuff, but hey, I figure it doesn't hurt. The Gamits' Antidote and Laymens Terms' 3 Weeks In are worth picking up. I wonder if anyone actually listens to our music suggestions on this thing. I'm guessing not. But whatever, that's not gonna stop us from doing it anyway.

Races to April. Their CD hits stores August 3rd, but you should preorder it if you know what's good for you. That CD will rock like nothing else. At least, it better, after all this hype I've been throwing around.

All right, that's enough for now. I'll be heading down to Georgia in a couple of days, so I won't be around to update this thing. So it'll be just like I'm home and working all the time instead. Maybe Adam and I will make a crappy home video this summer. Actually, no maybe there. The maybe was supposed to go here: Maybe you'll see it sometime, if you're lucky. And the lucky wasn't supposed to go there. The lucky was supposed to go here: Maybe you won't be subjected to it, if you're lucky. There, that looks right.