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So this morning I was in the west 20s and saw this flier everywhere that said

Then at the bottom it said

I'm thinking to myself, listen, if this dog managed to disable the GPS, you ain't gonna find him! That's a dog that doesn't want to be found--he's like the Jack Bauer of canines, probably hanging out with his dog buddies in a tunnel somewhere under Grand Central going "Yeah, so the satellite can't get me down here." Then they all bark and give each other high-fours.

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Shot by Derek.

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Today’s soundtrack: the music sounds better with you

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Today at 8:02pm: letting one too many punches through

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This is the coolest thing I've heard of recently: a website called Vocationvacations.com.

It's a site for people who want to try out new careers. You can dip your foot in the pool without actually making a life-change. The idea is that you pick one of the available careers and plunk down several hundred bucks, then you get to try it out for a few days. You go to some part of the country where someone in that line of work lets you do it.

Some sample available careers they have are:

- Alpaca Farmer
- Bed & Breakfast Owner
- Dog Trainer
- Hot Rod Manufacturer
- Martial Arts School Owner
- Model
- Private Investigator
- Wine Sommelier

While some of those sound pretty cool, I noticed they don't have any of the fields I'd like to try out, like

- Sniper
- Corrupt Cop
- Neurosurgeon
- Drug Lord
- Bank Robber and/or Getaway Driver
- Nuclear Submarine Captain
- Hitman/Assassin
- Karl Rove
- Jumbo Jet Pilot
- Jewel Thief
- Roman Emperor

It would be quite something to put the toga on and order entire cities burned. All the while knowing that come next Monday, you're gonna have to go back to Manhattan and pay your Con Ed bill like everyone else.

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Today’s soundtrack: I saw it with my own two eyes

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Today at 12:02pm: tippling

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#

I think all the booze is changing my brain chemistry. I can feel it. More weight in the skull, I'm slower, more obstinate. Synapses realigning and the pleasure center lighting up like a Christmas tree when I hear the top come off the scotch. Pop, blink, gulp.

At the same time I'm training in martial arts like four times a week, so I need to be on the President's Council for Fitness and Simultaneous Alcohol Abuse. I'm like one of those assholes who has a cigarette on his way to the gym.

Getting older is weird. You start like, listening to The Eagles and shit.

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