One is bothering J-L and one is J-L

So in Phillipe news (two blogs on this loser is two too many, but anyway…), he has told my girlfriend’s friend that he “must see her again.” This was in the face of protests by her that she “hated him” and the fact that her boyfriend, (me) is approximately twice his size, does not work as a hairdresser and already hates him for fu-king up his passion, which is comedy.

So if anyone meets a 5’5″ bag of douche named Phillipe (or Felipe) who is a hairdresser for Aveda please punch him hard in the face, or at least don’t tip him if he does your hair.

In better news, my nephew was born Friday and he was not born on my birthday (he was 13 days early, exactly as early as his older brother). His name is Julian Langston (ironically, the name of the comic who beat me in March Madness was named Julian so thanks for the reminder). Not only that, but there is a good chance that when I make the initials J-L famous, little Julian will want to take J-L from me. But at least I will keep my birthday all to myself.

Well, back to work – yes I am working on Saturday night to keep the people of Bronx county safe.

And for all of you that want to buy me presents – I turn 28 on Tuesday. I will therefore extend my streak to approximately 1,000 days of living at home since obtaining a law degree from Georgetown, which is a modern day record. The all time record was when Gunther McCloskey, class of 1809, lived at home for 2,765 days after obtaining his law degree because he was the oldest son and his parents had died of sore throats and he had 11 younger brothers and sisters to care for on the family farm. Most people think I will never touch that record because circumstances would no longer mandate such an exhaustive stay at home. But some experts believe that the fact that I have been there for 1,000 days already defies logic and that the record may not be as untouchable as it seems. See you on my 34th birthday.