Good Mornings

I believe there is nothing worse than waking up and being accosted by your loved one and all of their questions. You are barely awake, hardly lucid and struggling trying to remember your own name and your loved one's, and he in all his cheery awake-ness expects you to have a scintallating conversation. This is exactly what happened this morning and I only feel slightly guilty for my snappishness.

I woke up and shuffled to the kitchen to make my oatmeal. I should now explain my underpants were sliding off my butt, and my hair looked remarkably like that of a young Neil Diamond. Jeff immediately started conversations and criticisms of my oatmeal. I was not in the mood. I sat on the couch and Jeff, in all of his cheerful awakity-ness, is chattering like a 7th grade girl with his first cell phone. I was not amused.

For those of you who listen to the show, you know Fridays are really difficult for us. They are the endcap of a long week, and of course, it is the day the Monkey is in all morning long. He will invariably saunter in late and with only half of his work done. There have actually been times when Brad and myself will be laughing and joking in the studio and within minutes of Stunt Monkey arriving we will be teetering between feelings of anger and homicidal rage. If I was observing the studio from the outside, I would assume it was magic. Evil, black magic, but magic nonetheless. For such a loveable and squishy person, Stunt has the ability to turn a room within minutes. He is the Pillsbury Doughboy with an evil agenda. We are only an hour and a half into the show today and already Brad and Stunt have already threatened each other's lives.

We have a remote today at the Wow Zone to help raise money for Mankato's fireworks. Please donate money so we can stop pimping ourselves out for incendiary devices. I will be really pissed if we don't get free pizza outta this deal. Sometimes free food is my only motivator.