Do you know what's second best to dating someone who has a lot of money? Having a brother who is dating someone who has a lot of money. Thus is the case currently in my life, as my brother has just gotten home and brought with him a gift from his latest "boyfriend", Hamilton. And what, you may ask, has Hamilton baught us? Towels. Now you may be saying to yourself "P'sha! Towels!" Well don't scoff yet; they're 100% Egyptian cotton, Calvin Klein towels. That's nothing to sneeze at! ...But it is something to wipe yourself off with. I am now happy to report that I will be living the high life after all my showers. Anyway, tired for sleep, but I felt I needed to share that. I promise I'll write more soon. Later.

You know what I simply don't get? No? Well I'll tell you. Whenever people mention that they want to set me up (with someone else...on a date...) they always talk to me about it as if I'd be very opposed to it. Why do people think this? Does it seem as though women are beating down my door? Do they get the impression that I have better things to do? Why would someone think this? To quote Jerry Seinfeld, "Who ARE these people?" I was in this situation today when a girl I work with said she had a friend who she thought I would get along with. She goes on to describe a girl who sounds pretty great and then goes "Y'know...if you want me to." Why wouldn't I want her to?! Then I question her: "Wait...is her good looking-ness out of my league?" "What do you mean?" "I mean, I don't want someone too good looking." She laughed at that. "You know what I mean," I said "I need someone in my weight class." "Well she's not the cutest girl I've ever seen-" "But she's not beaten with an ugly stick either. Okay. That sounds fine." She went on to tell me that I was too neurotic, but she'd overlook that and try and set me up anyway. Though I doubt news will come from this (and if it does it won't be for a while), I will update you if anything happens. Later.

Well, first off some good news: Last night I talked to my brother and I said, "Look, I'm going to be the bigger man here..." and I talked to him about the whole washcloth thing. I wasn't shocked at all when he told me that he was thinking the exact same thing that I was and just didn't want to ask about it. When I woke up this morning the washcloth was gone, and thus, another chapter has ended. In other news, I just got a phonecall from Roberto (of James and Roberto) who wanted to know if I'd be an usher at his wedding. I gladly accepted, though after I got off the phone I realized, "Wait a minute...they're both men. When someone shows up, what will I say? 'Grooms side or...grooms side?' Gah!" Just something to think about. Later.

I now present, for you enjoyment (or disgust), the true story of how apathetic two men can be. In my bathroom next to the sink there is a trashcan. Lying on the edge of the trashcan (half in and half out) there is a washcloth. Now, was this washcloth getting thrown out though didn't quite make it into the basket? Or perhaps it was simply resting on the sink and it somehow slid off and landed half in the trashcan. The truth of it is that no one knows. Of course I could always ask my brother if he meant to throw it out, or he could do the same for me, but the 4.6 seconds it would take to do that would be a waste of both our times. For these reasons a washcloth has remained on the rim of our bathroom trashcan for the past 5 days. And as Day 5 of Washcloth Watch proceeds, the true destiny of the washcloth is unknown, and speculations abound. At this point, it's anyone's guess. Later.

P.S. If you think this is awful, you're in good company with the rest of this hemisphere. I, like Jerry Lewis, am only truly appreciated in France. So you could either become French, or just go read my old stuff in the archives, cause that was actually pretty good.

One truly disturbing scenario, if not just a modern-day-domestic-camp-fire-scary-story, happened to me tonight. I was sitting with Micah, when I remembered loading the dishwasher the day before, though not running it, and when I got home I remember it being unloaded. Seeing as how my brother was home for less than an hour that night I wasn't sure how he could have run the dishwasher and unloaded it. The wheels in my head began to turn. "Did you run the dishwasher yesterday?" I asked him. "I unloaded it," he replied. "Right, I know you did. But did you run it?" "No, I just unloaded it." "But I didn't run it." "I thought you ran it." "No, I just loaded it." "And I unloaded it." And thus, our dishwasher had been both loaded and unloaded, while never actually being cycled and cleaned. We both immediately became overwhelmed with disgust, having eaten off of dishes and drunken out of glasses earlier that evening. Needless to say the dishwasher was packed to the brim and cycled promptly after. Later.