This afternoon, as I alternated between watching football and cleaning the Nexus of Hate, I noticed an older woman and two young guys walking up to my apartment unit. I drew the seemingly obvious conclusion: that Sailors, most likely from the USS Greeneville (SSN 772), were inquiring about leasing an apartment at Beechstone. I couldn't exactly walk up to them and warn them away from renting here, but I tried to get their attention with a thumbs down signal. That having failed, I returned my attention to the Lions and Cowboys. A few minutes later, a familiar sound visits itself upon my ears - drip, drip, drip... Once again, I've got water coming down from the apartment above mine. I get it stopped in one spot - and not two minutes later, it commences in another spot. After I gain my composure, I take out my trash and walk over to the office, to inform them of this deficiency. The head maintenance guy was right there, and as I waited for him to be ready, I talked to one of the guys that I saw earlier. I told him that it was the third time in five weeks we'd had water coming through the ceiling, and that Beechstone was centrally located to precisely jack squat. However, I think they were already signing contract documents. What was the root cause of the incoming water? As it turns out, when you have an unoccupied second-floor apartment, it's not a good idea to leave the heat off - because pipes might freeze, the sink might overflow, and water might spill onto the floor and seep into the apartment below. I can't wait to tell Ray about this tomorrow; I have no idea whatsoever how he'll react.
The Giants escape Philadelphia with a win, and stay two games clear of everyone else in the wild-card race; Dallas looked great coming back from fourteen down in the final quarter to win in Detroit; and New England shoved Anthony Smith's guarantee right back in his face. It seems the Patriots have righted their ship; I'm slightly less optimistic about the Giants' chances of derailing their perfect season in Week 17.
I'm really starting to get annoyed by the Zales ads featuring Vanessa Carlton's "A Thousand Miles." I simply want to throw that out there.
Here's a commercial that I've seen both on SportsCenter and during NFL telecasts, and it may be a sign of the coming apocalypse:
----- (Video clip of the Mr. T "I'm a night elf mohawk" commercial for World of Warcraft. I've linked to three different copies of this commercial, but they keep disappearing.) -----
One more note on television advertisements: today, Peyton Manning asked me if I was bummed out about driving a minivan, and then asked if it was a sport turbo charged minivan. No, Peyton, it's not...it's the MINIVAN O' WAR, clown!
This weekend really needs to get here quickly. The Yuengling needs to be replenished, and my senses really need to be rocked by Kristen and the Noise on Long Island.