so ...

OK, kid — let’s deal some drugs

I should be pay­ing more atten­tion to the “Arrested Development” marathon than I am, since we really have no busi­ness drop­ping Real Money on the DVDs on Tuesday. I’m all about the Hot Cops.
This is a sick house. We’re both sick, so sick. Sick sick sick. We haven’t left the house for days. Combine this with the INSANE fresh paint fumes from the stair­well (the guy finally fin­ished the job today) and it is a won­der we are not hal­lu­ci­nat­ing faeries and gnomes run­ning around the house. Well, I guess I’m only speak­ing for myself. But it’s not like I can smell much of any­thing, yet I am expe­ri­enc­ing an over­whelm­ing chem­i­cal sen­sa­tion in my res­pi­ra­tory extrem­i­ties when I breathe. This must be what car­bon monox­ide poi­son­ing is like. I wish we could open the win­dows and get some fresh air but hey guess what? It’s 38º out­side. And rain­ing. I don’t think ask­ing for pneu­mo­nia is a good idea.
Tonight is the sec­ond Kings/​Rockets game in China. The first one was fun, even if the Kings lost, but win­ning wasn’t the point and all that. Plus if the Rockets lost, the crowd would have been so sad. And we don’t want that. I hope I can man­age to be awake when it’s on.
This is all excit­ing news, I know. Eh. I got noth­ing, but holy crap, check out Brad Miller on a camel.

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