Either a snake bit me in my sleep or I’ve got a zit the size of Mt. St. Helens growing on the side of my nose. Either way, it fucking sucks… I blame testosterone. Then again, I can trace my favorite moments back to Mr. T… so I guess in the end the benefits outweigh the occasional appearance of big pink bumps that hurt like a bitch and burst several days later in a shower of blood and some white substance I can only presume is Elmer’s Glue. After Bonnie and I successfully convinced Erik to see Euro Trip last night we uhm.. saw Euro Trip… the point is now all Erik wants to do is go to Amsterdam. Which would be cool, if Erik was rich, but as it currently stands globetrotting with my assistant manager just isn’t in the budget. Hell, a new battery for my car is already going to suck away this week’s “slush fund” (wellness center $$).