People,

One more week in the books here in Rochester. Here were the highlights:

-I am still riding my bike back and forth to work. A couple days last week were sooooooooooooooooooo cold. How cold? Well, for the fellas, it was so cold that when I got to work and did my usual pre-shift nut scratch my scrotum had shrunken so much I pinched a roll and ended up writhing on the ground for five minutes in agony.

-We got a new store manager from South or North Carolina, I'm not sure which. It was the one who didn't have slaves...whoops! I kid.

-I nick-named the new manager NASCAR. He doesn't like that. But he's 26 and successful and I don't like that, so I think we're even, except that he can fire me. Of course, I'd almost welcome being fired. A classic stalemate.

-People from work have discovered the journal and now know, just like the rest of the world, how lame and nerdy I am. Ah well.

-I had a 67 ounce Slurpee. You know that song by the Cure, "Just like Heaven?" I'm voting for it to be renamed "Just like Slurpee". It was that good.

See you tomorrow, for real.