Friday's Quizzlet: Please Excuse My Pubes.

Appetizer: What do you want for Valentine's Day?
Receiving something on Valentine's Day means that you have a significant other. Which I do not. Nor am I particularly shopping around at the moment. Sorry ladies, but you'll have to get your daily dose of indifference elsewhere. I can, however, always count on a Valentine's card from my Mother. I believe she may be trying to creep me out enough so I'll get married. It's working.

Soup: If you could change the color of something you own, what would it be?
I'd love to change my white leather couches back to white again. They're comfortable and I love them, but they've been through the wars. Many scuffs, stains and general wear and tear have left them looking like giant eclairs covered in ants. Like gym socks stuffed with tennis balls and then rolled in jimmies. Like rolls of toilet paper stamped on by boots covered in nutella. Like a single section of a pan flute, increased 300 times by some sort of raygun and then hacked at with a shovel. You know what I'm talking about.

Salad: What's your favorite day of the week and why?
Friday - hands down. Around 3 p.m. I get the angel and devil duking it out on opposite shoulders. The angel knows that if I go straight home after work and behave, the weekend will be productive and relatively inexpensive. The devil likes to remind me that although I'll wind up broke, sleep all day and possibly wet myself - I'll have a damn good time doing it. I recently paid for the angel to attend debate classes, and it's the best money I ever spent. You'll find me tonight, for example, playing video games or watching Tivo'd episodes of CSI. That sounds pretty pathetic to the casual observer, but believe me - I've lived a wonderful, wild life thus far and I've decided to start picking my battles more carefully. So be sure to come see me next weekend when the angel will be away visiting relatives in the outfield.

Main Course: What excuse do you use most often?
My father was always after me about the importance of not making lame justifications for things. Some of my friends still impersonate him by saying: "You know what those are David? Those are excuses!" He was relentless, and to this day I know intrinsically when I myself am about to make one, and the lame excuses of others stick out like sore thumbs and drive me mad. "I'm tired". "I've been really busy". And then there's the catch-all that the British use: "I can't be asked". I can honestly say that a make a bare minimum of excuses for myself, and I certainly don't have one that I use most often. Except that particularly effective one involving pubic lice.

Dessert: Name something or someone you feel sorry for.
I hate to patronize people, as I'm no bargain myself. I guess the easiest answer would be victims of the recent Tsunami in Asia. They never stood a chance, they never saw it coming and they certainly didn't deserve it. That was some biblical shit, man. Oh, and Jan Michael Vincent.