In local news the big-time free agent signing by the Clevia Browns, LeCharles Bentley (I'm not kidding, that's really his name) broke his knee on the FIRST play of the FIRST practise of the year. This is par for the course in Clevia, actually, and we, collectively, EXPECT stuff like this to happen. In fact it's like we've got the Battered Wife Syndrome, because our sports teams continue to fail us year after year after year and we always think "That's okay, We'll get em next year!!" Until next year comes and of course it turns out to be just like last year. Rinse later repeat.
I'm onto the salad right now. I took a phone call in the meantime from my friend Ed. That's his real name, by the way, when your name is Ed there's no need for obfuscation. But I digress. Oh yeah, the side salad. It's in a clear plastic box, and it's got cucumbers and cheese and olives and cherry-tomatoes in it. Plus I've got it slathered up with French1 dressing. It's quite good and it's actually a precursor to some rigatoni stuff. I'll get to that later.
Another phone call. The receptionist lady downstairs, Cindy (that's not really her name) called to make fun of these scam artist people who call and ask for information on our copier, pretending they work for the company who has your service contract, then they send you crap and bill you for it in the hopes that you'll just pay! Why don't these people put there energies to good use, instead of evil?
I'm on to the rigatoni now. Yes, this is a metric fuckload of food, but I won't be eating dinner until around 9:00 tonight so I need lots of food to tide me over. Plus I'm still a damn pig.
The rigatoni is in this oval shaped plastic tub, with a tonne of sauce over the top of it and some optional cheese (I'm passing on the cheese) that they want you to sprinkle over the top of it. It's not the best, I mean, it's just little hunks of boiled pasta, but it's filling and doesn't taste too bad.
So, how about that weather, eh? Yeah, it sure was rainy last night. We had monsoon type rain with flooding and all the crap that goes along with it. Of course I live on the 35th floor of the YMCA Rehab Centre so it can rain for a month and I couldn't give a crap. But I guess all the people who have houses with basements aren't real happy right now. Hmpf.
Right. All done with the rigatoni. Shew. I'm stuffed like, like, uh, I'm stuffed.
 - The refreshing salad topping, not the cheese eating surrender monkeys
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