Day 14316

I've decided I need a side-kick. Not someone to simply hang out with, but like in cartoons or movies, the bumbling, good-natured idiot who never gets the girl. Yeah, that would be perfect!

It would have to be a guy, who was shorter than me and in worse shape. That way as I age and slowly lose the battle of the bulge, people won't be as likely to notice. I think he should have lots of freckles, but definitely no red hair. He'll always walk one step behind me and off to the side and will be the ultimate "yes" man. Oh baby, it all coming together now!

Let's see, he'll have to have a catch-phrase. Damn, this is getting harder. OK, how about "I don't know, I'm confussed!"? And, no, that isn't a typo - it'll be a hip, new pronunciation! I'll have to have t-shirts made up saying "I'm confussed!" on them, for the merchandising. Oooh yeah, if this takes off, I won't have to work! Sweet.

I think his wardrobe is going to have to include exclusively flannel shirts. Sort of Canadian lumberjack-esque. Ooooh, here we go, his favorite food will be Canadian bacon and he'll actually know how it differs from regular bacon, but he won't tell anyone! He'll only look up and squint when asked about the difference. That will be his one cool thing. Also, he'll only eat the Canadian bacon with hot Chinese mustard along with some fried potato wedges on the side! Nice.

OK, what am I forgetting? A name. My sidekick has got to have a name, and jeans, or else it will just be creepy. I think I'll go with Chris. (Apologies to all you Chris's out there.) Yeah, Chris, after the Chris who used to be on the David Letterman Show, or whatever it was called back then. He's a doof...should fit nicely.

OK, so to wrap it up, my new sidekick, named Chris, has lots of freckles and wears flannel shirts. He eats Canadian bacon with hot Chinese mustard and potato wedges, which is probably why he is out of shape. Finally, he always agrees with me and is frequently "confussed".

Any questions? OK, who wants the job? It pays nadda, zip, squat. Interested parties should send a resume, complete with a 5" x 7" photo to me at whatever address was assigned for this blog. Sorry, no nude photos, please.

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So...anyone else starting to feel a little wierd, possibly from some sort of effect from tomorrow's up-coming full moon? I'm not alone. Over at Radio Paradise in the AU, a bunch of people (including me) are running around calling themselves some form of Jenny! Gotta be the moon. Unless it's the margaritas.