3.1.09

Dear Rachel Dratch,

I find it hard to believe that it is already March. Didn't it feel like we were just doing the thang for New Year's? But I guess the time really has passed since then because it now says that the new month begins with a three. I was reading this review or preview, or something, about Jimmy Fallon's new late-night show that mentioned that he should bring you on to add the lady perspective to an otherwise ball-filled late-night world, save for Chelsea Handler. I would hate for you to be relegated to his sidekick. I mean, we've seen how he acts in movies where he is the lead (Am I the only one who saw "Fever Pitch"? Which, by the way, should have been the vehicle for your Denise Zasu. Whatever.) and he kind of sucks. I may watch an episode or two to see what it's all about, but please promise me you won't become Chuy.

It's raining again today. It was just starting to warm up a bit, but I guess it's still the winter because it is now cold and wet. Have you ever wanted to play in the rain? I feel like that is something that we as children are always wanting to do. As an adult, shit, even as a kid, I was never much of a fan of being wet if I had a choice. If I wanted to play in some water, I could take a shower. I would avoid wet rides at Six Flags because of that uncomfortable feeling and sound that comes from wet shoes. Oh, and that gross feeling of your clothes sticking to you because your wet and it's hot as fuck and you have become the human humidity machine. Something about wet clothes and hot Georgia summers does not appeal to me. Gross.

We may be getting another beagle today. I won't lie--I'm both super excited and a little nervous. Rescue dogs are real sweet, but also a little crazy. I hope she doesn't poop everywhere when she gets nervous. I also hope dudes don't make her nervous, as my first dog got whenever dudes came around. She'd just let it piss, right there. Poor thing. The decision has been made that whether or not our new dog is male or female their name would be Janet. There's something so progressive about a male dog named Janet. He'd, I mean, She'd be a transgendered dog, perhaps the first of her kind. That's very special, you know. We can't get inside the heads of animals, so I figure we could save at least one animal from all the turmoil of the woman-in-man's body that m-to-f trannies have to go through by just taking care of at least giving her a girl's name. The parts are already gone, might as well go all the way!

I've lost track of where this was headed. I was distracted. I should probably go take a shower or something. Probably not. We'll talk soon.

Jon