I'm going to call this the Danda-bear (because it is obviously a Dog and Panda combined).

I've got to find me one of these, and teach it to run up and jump on people, on command. People would be like "It happened so fast, the panda came out of nowhere" then I will walk by with my Danda-bear and the person will be like "That's it! That's the panda that attacked me!"

The cop taking the report will think that they are crazy, and hit them across the face with a baton, then throw them in a mental hospital. Then the Danda-bear and I will walk by the hospital everyday, so the person can see us from the window of their padded room, and yell to the staff, "That's the panda! That's the pandaaaaaa" as they wrestle the person down and give them a sedative.

I think I might pitch it to CBS as a reality show...

Alright, I'll admit it...I was scared. It doesn't happen often, but it sure did mess with my head.

I was eating the sandwich from hell tonight. I should have known that it wasn't going to go over too well when the place screwed up making it. I was already home when I opened it up and realized it was wrong, but thats not the point.

I was on the phone getting an earful from a client and eating the sandwich at the same time, and I started to choke. I've had food stuck in my throat before, but never to the point where I could completely not breathe.

I dropped the phone and was trying to figure out what to do. The first thing I did was the two hands on the neck, choking sign. That just made me feel stupid, because nobody was around but the dog, and he thought I was playing with him. Next I tried do drink something. I figured it could help clear my throat, but no. If anything it only made it worse.

The next bright idea actually worked, but really hurt. Well it still really hurts. I punched myself in the stomach, multiple times because it didn't work the first time. Just picture King Kong pounding on his chest, but replace King Kong with me and replace chest with stomach. Oh, and replace his triumph with my panicking and chaos.

Now for the good and bad news. I guess that the good news is that I'm still breathing. The bad news is that my stomach is bruised and it hurts every time I take a breath. Oh, and to top it off I dropped my sandwich.

I don't know if I should be proud or ashamed of this.

Your Life is Rated NC-17

You're life is so nasty, so naughty... it can't even be explained in polite company.

Everybody has those friends that you can go years without seeing, and when you see them it is like you saw them just a few days ago. I decided that I would go visit one of those friends.

It has been a little over a year since I last saw her. In that time she went through a divorce, lost her father, and took over his restaurant.

When I showed up to the restaurant today, there was a sign that said closed, but I could see her car in the parking lot. I figured, "what the hell" and tried opening the front door. Amazingly, she can lock her keys in the car four times in one week, but forget to lock the front door when they aren't open.

I open the door, and the alarm goes "ding." She hears this and yells from the back, not knowing it was me, "We're closed!"

I get a chuckle out of this, because her father always used to do that. Being the kind of person I am, I say back, "I can't even get a burger?"

I hear something heavy, metal and hollow, fall on the floor, and her yell, "GOD DAMN IT, no you can't even get a burger!"

I found that hilarious, and did all I could to not laugh. Instead I decided to say this, "That's probably for the best, I hear this place tastes like shit." Now I'm just standing there with my arms crossed and a HUGE grin on my face.

Now I can hear footsteps coming towards the front, and her says with her tough-girl voice, "Listen you" *she storms through the door to see me standing there with a grin on my face* she bursts out laughing and says, "listen you asshole, you're going to eat what I make...and like it!" as she runs up to me and gives me a hug.

All considered, I think it was a good day.

So the minions are mad that I took or threw away their toys.

They have began to form some pseudo-union. It is actually amazingly funny to watch. The ones that are participating in this pseudo-union, are the ones that left all their crap in the trailer, even though there was a sign saying that they need to get it out.

I'm going out on a limb here, but I am willing to bet that it was one of them who tattooed the gigantic cock and balls on the sign, in permanent marker and left me the very polite message of "fuck you" on the door.

Some of the ones who actually took their stuff out, have come up to me today and said that I did the right thing, and "not to take their stupid bullshit."

On my way home today, I stopped at Home Depot and bought some industrial cleaner. I tried everything I had to get the marker off of the door, but it wasn't going to happen. I'm suppose to dilute this stuff 1 cup of cleaner to 3 gallons of water. What do you think the chance of that happening is?