The most important question you may ever face: Why not get an airbrushed tattoo of 2pac? As in, congratulations, Poet, here is your airbrushed tattoo of 2pac! Or, if that doesn't tickle you, what about 2pocahontas? That tickles me. Also, saying the word, Okoboji. It's like saying, Okay BJ, but different.

I started a new job today. Actually, if you ask the federal government, I started a job today, having had no former job (in the last 18 months). You can't be unemployed if you are believed to have never been employed to begin with. I wasn't unemployed, no, I was simply not employed. But that's over now. I'm totally ambient.

Today I cut myself twice on the same door. There is less of me now than there once was. I have less Benjamin to speak of. However, the door has a tiny bit more. Or, I guess, since it didn't have any before, it has some. Some Benjamin. The door, it seems, is basking in my newly found ambiance.

Ohio is the worst. I've said it before, but feel a more permanent record is needed. Anyway, as I've said before, Ohio is the worst. Driving through Ohio is like driving through a Larry The Cable Guy album. You don't mind it at first, but by track 2, man, you can't wait for this shit to be over. That's when you realize you're only in Cleveland and the CD player is broke and the only way to get to the next disc to let it play. But then, just before the last track is over, it stops and charges you $20 for having listened to the CD all the way through. Ohio...you're the worst.