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This morning while working out at my local YMCA a blind guy sat down at a machine I had just vacated. I've seen this guy before, and not only am I pretty sure he's there more times a week than I am, but he proceeded to add more weight than I had just done. God continues to drop hints to me about how worthless I am, but I guess I just keep ignoring them.

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Reprimanded by a co-worker for being "too crass," I will refrain from making a LOST joke and allow you to draw your own conclusions: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/brazil_plane

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I saw the dude accidentally drop a single green pea into my bowl while making my salad (I don't like green peas in my salad), and I am now desperately searching for it before taking a bite. To think I used to argue with people who said I was OCD.

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There were some legit smoking hot chiquitas at church on Easter. Maybe I need to start going more often. (P.S. if I wasn't going to hell already I pretty much cemented it by texting that to a buddy during the service) (P.P.S. the iPhone revolutionizes church services).

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The first edition of the Chronicles of PHA was like Freaks and Geeks: Critically acclaimed, but yanked off the air almost immediately. As soon as conflicts with one star were resolved one of the other stars is now in contract discussions with other apartments. PHA is like SNL during the 70's, only with more drugs and fewer women.

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This morning I legitimately considered asking a homeless guy on the subway if he thought West Virginia would beat Kansas in a potential second round matchup. Without spring break this is all I have, clearly.

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I knocked over a display of bottled water last night at Whole Foods while staring at a hot girl. This is how rarely I see knock-outs in NYC. For reference I used to run into polls, parked cars, trash cans, and open manholes pretty much daily when I was on campus at Texas. One time I even ran into a police horse trying to make eye contact with a hot chiquita. Those were the days.

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While my friends were getting into law school and getting engaged this weekend, I focused on beating Call of Duty. A few years from now I'm confident my accomplishment will mean more in the grand scheme of things. As an aside, that was one of the more depressing endings to a story I've ever seen.

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When you type in "how to" into Google search the top suggestions are "tie a tie," "kiss," and "get pregnant." Apparently the people who use Google most are total idiots (me), pubescent geeks (me, then), and gold digging whores (me…future?).

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My female co-worker was crying so, thinking something horrible had happened, I was like "oh, man, are you alright? What's wrong?" and tried to console her. Then I found out she was crying while watching The Bachelor re-runs on abc.com. Right when I'm about to be like "y'know, maybe girls aren't as totally insane as I think they are," I see something like that. I just don't get it.

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Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe it's Girl Scout Cookie season. The first time I come home drunk I guarantee I eat an entire sleeve of Shortbreads.

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Marco: “Your status updates sound like your boyfriend wrote them.” Intelligent and insightful criticism, Marco, thank you. However a more popular topic of conversation within the gchat world today seems to be “Who the fuck is Marco?”

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My first CD’s were given to me by my sister. They were Nirvana, Counting Crows, and Hootie. Pretty cool, right? Well she also gave me Melissa Etheridge, who unbeknownst to a ten-year-old was a noted lesbian and Lilith Fair participant. Now imagine mini-Price playing air guitar to “Come to my Window.

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How did Fruit by the Foot and Bubble Tape come to be? Were moms complaining they would have to put a dozen fruit roll-ups in their kids’ lunches just to satisfy them? I’m pretty sure my parents weren’t thrilled with me chewing the equivalent of my body height in sugary gum, either.

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It's disconcerting that a blanket with two holes cut in it just topped $40 million in sales. I wonder if dressing like a French monk circa 1750 will catch on like sagging pants or acid wash jeans? -- http://adage.com/article?article_id=134080

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I have Aerosmith's "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing" stuck in my head. I feel like I should be soaked in Polo Sport cologne and "slow dancing" with a girl with braces... eying the girl I actually wanted to dance with who is too close to that other dude. I'll have to get on AIM later to figure out if they're serious or not.

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Yes! it's verbatim day!!! We get to read all the comments from the people called and mailed [client's name redacted] to complain about our spots. "I hate this ad because the guy annoys me. Please stop running it." --hahahaha, too bad. "Your commercial is misleading and mean." --apparently from an elementary school kid.

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Suck it, kid (although this was probably me when I was 4) --

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New Year's Resolutions? 2009 is going to be big for P-Man. I'm going to take part ownership in the Clearly Canadian sparkling water co. and bring it back to prominence in convenience stores nationwide, I plan to successfully make a grilled cheese without assistance, I'm going to switch to boxers, and I'd like to get to second base with a girl just to see what the fuss is all about.