Cheesecake is for children (aka, Hell... Hell is for Children)

Dear Pat Benatar fans: You're welcome.

So, yes. Another day in paradise. Ahem. We are stealing Internetz from Schlotzsky's Deli. The Buffalo Wild Wings place rebuffed us like the non-sports fans we are and denied us access to their free wireless Internet, so we were forced to come here. The pushy waitress tried to get Phil to order more beer. His response: "If you get the Internet working, then I'll drink more." I never saw a waitress hustle more for a little bit of additional tip than that lady. Too bad it didn't work.

So, Amos just finished off an authentic piece of Schlotzsky's cheesecake. I have no idea if Schlotzsky's is famous for their cheesecake, but Amos was grateful. I do know that Schlotzsky's is difficult to spell. Perhaps they should enter it as a word to challenge the national spelling bee kids.

Life continues here in the state of Texas. Mom is home and being cared for by the poor man's nurse, or in other words, me. I get the juicy job of forcing her to eat, take her pills, give her injections of a blood thinner, and take abuse. I'd like my salary now, thankyouverymuch.

I managed to attend a football game, as mentioned previously. Perhaps we will gawk at my nephew's game tomorrow evening. As I said, football is a required activity when one settles into Texas. I was asked if it is indeed like "Friday Night Lights." Yes, but with less attractive people playing the parts. This ain't Hollywood, you know.

Phil saw an armadillo last night as he dragged the trash can out to the taxiway. That's very exciting. Taxiway, for those who are scratching their heads, is the term used for the road behind my mother's house. The house is on a private airport, you dig, so there are single engine airplanes and whatnot flying around at all times. It's a bit trippy to look outside and see a pickup going down the taxiway followed by a Cessna 172. Then, the armadillo joins the parade. As you can imagine, we make some cotton candy and then open our arms as they throw mints and beads in our general direction. (Did I just make a cheesy parade joke? You bet your armadillo, I did.)

I've managed to lose only an additional 0.7 pounds since my stay here. I suppose stress and such are playing their part on my metabolism. It isn't fair that I haven't cheated on my diet, and yet my weight barely drops. Boo, I say. I'm surrounded by some of the most delicious Mexican food on the planet, and I've resisted. And yet, my body fails to reward such monumental feats. Boo. I am, however, beginning to fall out of my pants that I brought. I suppose that's something (but it's not a plate of tacos, if you know what I'm saying, and I think you do).

Well, Amozsky is getting fidgity, so I suppose I must relinguish my precious Internet connection and head back to the land of armadillos and airplanes. Until I join the current century again...