You're probably all tired of me mentioning Reggie, the guy I'm a life coach for. That's why today I'm going to tell you about Kellie, the latest person I'm pulling out the life coach skills for.

Kellie has a couple assignments every week and has goals and deadlines set up, but in true Josh fashion I'm also forcing her to write a blog. The first post came out yesterday, and the blog is titled, "I Wanna Be a Writer, But I Don't Wanna Write*." Appropriate, no?

So head on over and check out another person I'm now torturing under the guise of "helping them be a better person."

Yesterday Micah calls and tells me that it's the grand opening of the new Whole Foods up in Boystown, plus it's sample day, so it's required that I get up there immediately.

The Whole Foods is huge, and the fact that it's in Boystown makes it about as cruisey as the gym on a Sunday morning.

"Just think of all the Craigslist missed connections that are going to take place in here!" Byron says as we walk in.

First I wrote this blog about my idea for a dumb summer movie called So I Married a Tool about a woman who gets drunk one night and gets married to a hammer. Then, a few weeks later I find this:

So today I'm going to share my new idea with you, with the hopes that it will be a reality show on FOX by the fall. The idea? A game show called Think Tank Dunk Tank where really smart people from think tanks are perched above a dunk tank and asked really hard questions. And if they get the question wrong? You guessed it! They get dropped into the dunk tank.

Personally, I think it'd be the hottest new show of the fall.

The other day Micah and I are driving around a parking garage, looking for a spot. "What about there?" Micah asks, pointing at an empty spot.

"We can't," I reply. "Zip cars live there."

"Huh?" Micah says. I simply point to the sign.

It's true.

Last night I had a dream I went to a concert and ran into Whoopie Goldberg. She saw my Cubs hat with the "C" on it and asked, "Le Chateau?" "Le Cubs," I responded.

"No," she said in a French accent. "Oui," I replied.

In all fairness, I did eat pizza with peppers and capers before bed. And if it causes me to dream about Whoopie Goldberg in French, you can bet I'll be eating it again!

Byron and I are starting to get Fivefoldink greeting cards into a few retail locations, and because of this we've been on the prowl for those tiny plastic bags that you find cards being sold in.

That's when I stumbled upon clearbags.com. Byron and I eagerly went to the site, looking at all the options.

And that's when we realized we were looking at clear plastic bags on a website. Which, really, is like looking at nothing. Waiting for nothing to load, and then looking at nothing.

"Nothing!" Byron yells. "Enlarge picture of nothing!"

Behold the madness here.

Yesterday Byron and I met up to play some tennis. I was wearing my Yale shirt (even though I never went to Yale) and Byron was wearing his NYU shirt (despite the fact that he didn't go to NYU).

I take a long look at the both of us and shudder. Just think of all the imaginary money the two of us have spent on tuition!

The other night I'm over at Kellie's. She's in the process of doing laundry.

"I couldn't get to the whites tonight," she informs me. "That's really racist," I say.

"It's not racist," she replies, "it's just that I could only do the blacks." "Now that's racist," I say.

This morning, while getting ready, I get the idea to text Bernadette. I write, "I have a fizzle in my nizzle. It kind of tizzles."

Her response?

"Shizzle!"

The other night Carrie walks up to me and holds up a bag from the Apple store in front of herself. "Does this make look more attractive?"

I eye the bag. "It kinda does," I admit. What can I say, I'm a sucker for Apple.

"You should just find somebody and put an Apple bag over their head at tighten it. That would make them irresistible," Carrie tells me.

"No," I say, "that would suffocate them."

There really is a fine line between irresistible and suffocation. Abstractly speaking, of course.

The other day while hanging out with Byron I tell him that I'm trying to make an animated GIF and having a hard time of it.

Byron laughs, "Oh, animated GIFs."

I suddently get the thought that the Animated GIFs would be a great band name, and I tell Byron about this. "I've always wanted to have a band called the JPEGs," he replies.

We mutually decide that the Animated GIFs will be the opening band for the JPEGs. And that both their album covers will be very pixelated.

Well crap.

I'm out of touch for a few days (and unable to attend to my lifecoach duties) because I'm dog sitting at a house with no internet, and Reggie decides to post an ad on Craigslist looking for, what he calls, a "hot" dog walker. Despite the fact that he doesn't own a dog.

The irony is disgusting. So is Reggie.

For years I've held the belief that having a DJ at a place where you wouldn't expect to find one is a great idea.

A DJ at a hair salon? A DJ at a shoe store? A DJ in a grocery store?

So imagine my surprise when I mentioned this to the girls who run Lovely Bake Shop and suggested that I play some tunes for them on a busy Saturday - and they loved the idea!

Basically what I'm telling you people is that I'll be DJing at a bakery this Saturday, from 9am to 4pm (Yes, that's am to pm, people. This is a bakery, not a club).

So stop by Lovely Bake Shop (1130 N Milwaukee) this Saturday for some good music and some great baked goods. How many other bakeries have DJs, huh?

It's Monday afternoon and I haven't been on the internet in two days.

I'm dogsitting for a friend in the South Loop and she doesn't have internet access. I've spent the past few days wandering around her condo, holding up my laptop and searching for a neighbor's wifi signal.

Finally, this morning, I break down and leave the house. Caribou looks crowded. The reception was crap at the Harold Washington library. Now, at the Argo Tea on Randolph, the server was having issues when I first tried logging in.

After going through two access cards I finally get online, only to see that I have 39 emails waiting for me in my inbox.

Two tables over, a cute girl with a Mac glances at me. Her smile says, "Hi."

I smile back, only my smile replies, "Sure, you're cute, but I've got emails to catch up on."