Happy Friday. Another week is over and we're closer to our deaths than we've ever been before.

Sorry. That sounded negative, right? My bad. It's just that I've been in a lousy space lately. I think it's due to all the Leno I've been forced to watch. Dagmar, my new lover Trinka's half-sister, is a huge Leno fan and she makes us watch him every night. I mean, I really wanted cable television, but all this Leno-watching is giving me second thoughts.

I feel like my soul is being eaten alive.

Or just eaten. Whatever. Are our souls alive? I don't know. I guess they'd have to be. Who'd want to be walking around with a dead soul? Not me. The smell would be awful.

Anyway, Leno: yep, every night. How do old, white people do it? That's who watches Leno, right? Mercy. This again proves one of my main theories: old, white people are frickin' crazy.

I really hope he isn't still on TV when I'm an old, white person. It's going to bad enough as it is being old and white; being old and white and a Leno fan will be awful. I should have it written in my will that I want my plug to be pulled if I become an old, white Leno fan. And if I'm without a plug someone should just hit me in the head with a large stone or something, it doesn't matter what it is, just put me out of my misery.

I'm going to call my sons now and tell them that, just to make sure they know. They're only 4 and 2, but I think they'll get the main idea: kill Daddy with a big rock when he's old and white and watches Leno. That should be easy enough for them to understand. Kids love big rocks.

Have a nice weekend.

This post is dedicated to fiber optics.