Following a weekend in Atlanta that made me puke and/or poop in and/or above four states and two time zones on our flight back Sunday afternoon, The wife and I closed on our new house Monday. You know what that means: Moving Week.

I woke up this morning at eight and immediately starting piling shit into the CRV. Four trips and five hours later, I was more than fucking wiped. And our apartment is maybe 1/4 empty. Sweet. Then I got to drive into work [where I did randomly run across long time friend of the show Rob who works for the man out in Cali and apparently does not trust my agency (nor should he -- they employ me)which was a sudden, random, and kind of awesome encounter, in the whole scope of the universe type thing (and this is the second time in a year this has happened -- he met a friend of mine from Peoria in a bar around this time last year through mutual friends)]. So, long fucking day.

But you know what makes it better? Whiskey and packing for tomorrow's move, listening to this:

And I've got a few projects lined up for the new house in the next month or two that I am super pumped about... I'll update on here accordingly, 'cause God only knows, if the people want updates on Al Fritz's home improvement projects, he will God damn give them to them.

(PS. This hot Redbirds start has me flustered. they're ten games over /500 on siete de mayo and the only ones not playing over their heads are Pujols and Ludwick -- whom one could argue is overperforming, but I believe in deeply -- starnge, awesome, great team so far. Looks to be a great 08 summer in the lou.)

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I probably got more done in the first few weeks after moving into my house than the years since (ridiculous hyperbole). It's a lot easier to get work done before you fill the place up with furniture, empty blended-scotch bottles, and trinkets collected from murdered hobos.

And my "Word Verification" is gxmen. Is that the agency you work for? I find them suspicious, too.
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