Who Does No. 2 Work For?

Nothing much has been going on here in Sunny D besides being on the right side of the grass for another day. Just workin' like a dog, waiting for the weekend so I can enjoy some hair of the dog. As Loverboy so aptly stated, everybody's workin' for the weekend. It's starting to get cold on my morning walk to work. Luckily I'm stubborn, so I refuse to wear a jacket and let Mother Nature know that she's beaten me. Small victories.

I've come across an interesting, semi-regular (no pun intended) occurrence here at my office, which I shall deem the "fecal phantom phenomenon." You see, the men's bathrooms here have only 2 stalls apiece. Hence, it's close (and extremely uncomfortable) quarters when both stalls are occupied. I am confused (and somewhat appalled) when someone enters the stall next to me and is done shitting and wiping in under a minute. I don't know how that's possible. Maybe these people are just taking 8-10 little shits throughout the day. Maybe they have discovered some sort of magical wiping technique. Whatever they're doing, they're certainly in and out too quickly to waste any time wiping off the seat or putting any toilet paper down on it before they sit down (nothing is more disconcerting than walking into a stall and seeing another dude's ass hair plastered all over the seat). And of course all I can see from the other stall is the bottom third of one of their shoes, so it's nearly impossible to figure out who these maladjusted, rapid-fire shitting machines are. Damn you fecal phantoms, damn you.

At 12:32pm CDT today (or 2:02pm NDT, for those of you living in Newfoundland and Labrador), it will mark 27 11/12 years since I escaped the cold, damp darkness of my mother's wretched womb so that I could watch IU stomp #19 Minnesota and give a big FU to all the doctors and nurses in Abbott Northwestern Hospital in Minneapolis who no doubt went to Minnesota (since it's probably the only med school in the state). Man, it had to be a kick in the dick for my doctor to bring me out knowing that I would one day go to the school that was currently beating the shit out of his school. Speaking of IU football, the Hoosiers travel to Mad Town this Saturday for a meeting with those stinking Badgers. If IU wins, we will be 4-0 for the first time since 1990, and Terry Hoeppner will be the first IU coach ever to win his first 4 games at IU. And it would be the biggest win the program has had since we beat #9 Ohio State at the Horseshoe back in '87, on what OSU coach Earle Bruce described after the game as "the darkest day in Ohio State football history." Losing to IU is that bad I guess.

Fantasy Update (I know everyone was wondering):
-Corn Hole'ers (1976 Tampa Bay Bucs): 0-3 (T 7th)
-FIC You (Car Ramrod): 1-2 (T 5th)
-Glenview Gridiron (Angry Pirates): 2-0 (T 1st)
-League of Extraordinary Gents (Angry Pirates): 2-1 (T 1st)
-Pigskin 2005 Pick 'Em (Angry Pirates): 3rd overall (9th last week)

Who would've guessed that my team that has that gumpy SOB Peyton Manning and his two shining star receivers, Marvin Harrison and Reggie Wayne, would be 0-3? Manning with only 2 TD passes? Harrison and Wayne with only 1 TD between the two of them? It makes about as much sense as the lyrics to a Beck song. Until they win, they will be the 1976 Tampa Bay Bucs. I'm actually thinking about benching Manning this week in favor of Michael Vick. This move of course would ensure that Manning will break Norm Van Brocklin's and Sid Luckman's respective records of 554 yards and 7 TDs, and that on the first play of the game, both of Vick's legs will be broken in spectacular, career-ending fashion, not unlike what LT did to Joe Theismann back in '85.

Every time I look at this picture of Vincent Price, I crack up, so I'm posting it yet again for everyone's enjoyment. Look at him: pencil-thin mustache, dressed like a champ, holding some sort of glass orb, with eyebrows that say, "get the fuck off my couch."

Livin's Great With a .38

Not much going on here today, except for the fact that I'm kickin' it old school by wearing a totally sweet skinny Kaiser Chiefs tie. Not only do I think I'm probably only one of 2 or 3 people in my office who knows who the Kaiser Chiefs are (and therefore, I shan't be called out for wearing band merch to work), but I'm certain I have the skinniest tie in the office today. I just thought of a great book title: Skinny Ties and Big Fat Lies: Corporate Culture in the 1980s. Where's T. Boone Pickens when you need him?

Something I found intriguing is a website Greg Bohmann sent to me that estimates your BAC based on weight, gender, type of drink, number of drinks, and time period (it assumes even consumption over the time period). It's called the Drink Wheel (http://www.intox.com/wheel/drinkwheel.asp), and it's easily an afternoon's worth of fun (incidentally, it will be a permanent fixture in the Links here at GMYH). When taking into account the 27 light beers I consumed at 30 in 8, according to the site, I was worth about 5 DUIs, and I was a beer away from the comatose/death level. Yet somehow I never lost consciousness (dignity, yes--consciousness, no). Take that John Bonham!!

Jessie and I are having an Oktoberfest party this Saturday. All I have to drink is 19 pints of German beer to equal my 27 cans of Keystone Light. Done and done (just kidding sweetheart). Anywho, it should be a great time. How can you go wrong with weiss bier, bratwurst, streusel, and pretzels? Then again we are talking about the Germans. It can go horribly wrong. I just hope no one convinces everyone else to take over my neighbors' apartment.

More Interviewing Questions

Callback interviews are upon me, which means that I have more of an opportunity to intimidate the hell out of people. I thought of some more solid interview questions:

1. "Quick, what's another word for thesaurus?"
2. "How much do you bench?" For answers under 250 pounds, I give them a disgusted look and say, "That's it? Get the fuck out of my office?" For answers over 250, I say, "Oh really, 'cause I'm putting up [add 10 pounds to whatever they said]."
3. [In a cryptic, baritone British accent, I ask these in succession with my voice getting louder for each question] "Angel or demon?" "Darkness or light?" "Good or evil?" "Friend or foe?" After their last answer, I let out a boisterous guffaw, and say, "You'll rue the day you met me!"
4. "There are sixteen squirrels in a barrel. Which one are you and why? And please think before you answer."
5. "I sense that you're a Leo, no?" If they say "yes," I growl like a lion, scowl, and make scratching motions with my hands. If they say "no," I continue through the Zodiac signs until reaching theirs. At that point, I say, "[Their Zodiac sign]? Turns out we have enough assholes in this office already. Security!!"
6. "What's your least favorite religion and why?"
7. "What's the best drug you've ever done?" No matter what the answer, I say, "Hell yeah. It's 5 o'clock somewhere, right?" Then I pull a syringe out of my desk, take off my belt, roll up my sleeve, and ask him/her to "fix me."
8. [As soon as I shut my office door after I meet them] "Alright, who else knows you're here?" No matter what they say, I reply, "Shit! That's too many. When are you going to learn to keep your fucking mouth shut? If this gets back to Mendoza, we're both dead."
9. "What's your favorite month?" If they say November, January, or February, I call them a "cold-hearted motherfucker." If they say March, I yell, "Madness!!" If they say April, May, or June, I say, "That's about what I'd expect from a total pussy." If they say July or August, I clap and say, "Play ball!" If they say September, I start singing "September" by Earth, Wind & Fire. If they say October, I smile devilishly, nod several times, throw up the devil horn hand sign, and say, "Fuckin' A, dude, me too! Rocktober! Aaaaoowwww!!" If they say December, I start singing "Oh What a Night" by The Four Seasons.
10. "If there is one thing you wish you wouldn't have told me today, what would it be?" This is obviously an excellent final question.
11. "If an out-of-state plaintiff files a complaint on Tuesday October 4, 2005, but the complaint isn't served until Monday October 10, 2005, under the Ohio Rules of Civil Procedure, when is the last date I can file a motion to dismiss for failure to join an indispensable party? You have 5 seconds."
12. "What's the best shit you've ever taken?" No matter what they say, I stare longingly at the wall behind them and say, "July 26, 1993. Army-Navy Surplus Store. Anchorage, Alaska. 45 minutes."
13. "What instruments can you play?" No matter what they say, I say, "Awesome, dude. You got the gig. We practice every Tuesday night in Jim's mom's basement and every Thursday night in Ronny's parents' garage. Our first show is in two Saturdays playing Northmont High School's Homecoming dance, but we still haven't picked out a name yet. Tommy and Jim like Lust Monkey, Ronny suggested Whiskey Dick and The One-Eyed Jacks, but I really like The Tina Yothers Brothers. We'll probably have an official vote next Tuesday. This is gonna be awesome." This is the first and only question I ask.
14. "Uday or Kusay?" No matter what they answer, I disgustedly reply, "Boy, you're a real piece of work, aren't you?"
15. "Where is Greenland?" No matter what the answer, I throw my hands up in disbelief and exasperatedly say, "That's exactly what those fat cats in Washington want you to think."
16. "Did you know that having sex with a virgin cures AIDS?" Another great first question, followed up with, "Please tell me you're a virgin."
17. "You don't know how excited I am to finally meet you in person. This is going to be fun. Whoever says online swingers sites don't work obviously hasn't tried swingingdayton.com, huh?" This is another good first question. When they look confused, I say, "Oh shit. You're my 3, not my 3:30, aren't you?"
18. [To female applicants] "So, are you the type who likes it slow and easy or fast and hard?" No matter what she says, I turn my head to the left as if I'm talking to someone sitting next to me and say, "Look out, this kitten's got claws."
19. "Who's your favorite Monkee?" Any answer except Peter Tork, I roll my eyes and say, "Oh, the gay one." If they answer Peter Tork, I pick up the phone, call the hiring partner, and excitedly say, "We've got a Tork! We've got a Tork!" Then I sing The Monkees theme song over the phone from beginning to end, hang up, and ask "when can you start?"
20. "What's your favorite Al Pacino line?" No matter what they say, I say, "Mine is when he says 'hoo-ahh!' in Scent of a Woman." Then for the rest of the interview, I yell "Hoo-ahh!" after every answer he/she gives.
21. [In my best Vincent Price voice] "What about the night makes you change from sweet to deranged?" If they know that this is a line from a Black Keys song, I say "well done" and for the remainder of the interview I talk only about my elaborate theory that all Black Keys songs are inspired by Vincent Price, mentioning that "it's so obvious," "those fuckers at theblackkeys.com won't return my calls or emails," and pausing several times to ask, "It makes sense, doesn't it?"
22. "If you could turn one kids cartoon from the past 30 years into a porn, what would it be?" Whatever they say, I reply, "Hell no man! It's gotta be 'Inspector Gadget's Backdoor Adventures.' 'Go go Gadget anal beads!'"

Another strategy I may employ is, in response to every answer they give, I repeat their answer and yell "Brilliant!" just like the guys from the Guinness commercials. No matter what, good times will be had.

30 in 8 Recap

Well, the 5th Annual 30 in 8 is in the books. Congrats are in order to Jonny Locke for defending his title in extraordinary fashion, finishing 1 beer short of accomplishing the task at hand. I finished 2nd for the 2nd year in a row. My life has been a parade of good decisions, one of which was my strategy was to go with a beer every 20 minutes, and then make a move late if need be. I tried. Lord knows I tried. But Jonny Locke was just too damn good. I finished with a rock solid 27, and promptly puked. Here's the official score card:
1. Jonny Locke - 29
2. Me - 27
3. Chris Thelen - 23
4. Marc Wiescinski - 20
5. Matt Connor - 19
6. Greg Bohmann - 17
7 (tie). John Ashcraft, Andy Southard, and Ian Taronji - 16
10. Holt Hedrick - 14
11. Doug Eifert - 11 (in his defense, he was only there for about 4 or 5 hours)
12. Brian Ezell - 9 (he was also there for 4 or 5 hours)

Others making appearances, but not competing, were Jamie Belanger and Adam Sadlowski. Overall, at least 217 beers were consumed. Here are some highlights from the day:
1. Purdue lost.
2. Someone accidentally turned on the side burner on my grill (which has a metal cover). This became apparent when we looked out the window to see my giant grill tongs with wood handles engulfed in flames. My strategy was to try to put out the fire with paper towels. Marc's strategy was to blow on it. Thank God Bohmann grabbed a glass of water and did the right thing, or else I might not be writing this. As you can see from the picture, the tongs are in trouble.
3. No one died.
4. Wisconsin beat Michigan, or so I was told.
5. Ashcraft sat on my front steps for close to 3 hours, resulting in some of the heartiest puke I've ever seen, preventing anyone from using the first 3 steps. I swear to God there was a half a hamburger still intact that came out of his mouth. He also left his vomit-covered flip flops on one of the steps overnight. They now reside at the bottom of my dumpster.
6. I discovered this morning that I bruised the hell out of my pinky and ring finger knuckles on my right hand (as shown in the picture). I'm going to have a hell of time explaining that at work. "Uh, I tripped and fell down the stairs." "Oh, I must have slammed it in a car door." "Sunburn." "This? It must have gotten bruised when I punched that cop." "Oh that? I drank 27 beers on Saturday and I might have been punching walls."
7. Several guys made inapporpriate comments to a female neighbor who I've never met. At least that won't be awkward.
8. Amy, for unknown reasons, let Jamie bring baby AC to 30 in 8 for several hours. She's been a mother for just over a month and she's already trying to go Susan Smith on her kid.
9. Spawn's strategy of drinking 4 15 oz. Guinness pub cans, and then moving to Bud Light failed miserably. We even gave him credit for 5 beers for his 4 Guinnesses.
10. After walking around downtown Dayton for a while and apparently having his pride wounded by some girl on the street, Jonny Locke -- I kid you not -- decided to drive back to Detroit. The man just drank 29 beers. Luckily Marc talked to him on the phone and convinced him to pull over at a rest area and sleep for several hours. I only hope he wasn't sodomized.
11. For reasons unknown to me, I turned into a complete meathead. I was head butting things (i.e., people, walls, doors), and I threw a pint glass at Marc's back that luckily didn't break anything (i.e., itself or any bones).
12. No one killed any hookers.

On a completely unrelated note, what the hell is Quizno's thinking? First they stop the wildly hilarious sponge monkey commercials (those weird things that sang "we love the subs, 'cause they are good to eat..."). What do they do to follow it up? They put Baby Bob in their commercials. The same Baby Bob who had a show on CBS for about 30 minutes in 2002 before it was canceled due to outright contempt and a complete lack of interest. Needless to say, Quizno's needs to fire its ad agency. They had gold and they traded it for a talking baby who everyone hates.

Several Mistakes

Wow. If I were to tell you that I've had some drinks tonight, I'd be right. Holy balls, I've been overserved by myself. I am currently typing as John Ashcraft is passed out 5 feet from me with no idea that I'm even in the room. If I could type more, I would. Good day.

30 in 8 Update: Beer 4

It's about 1:15 and I'm on beer #4. My goal is to keep a pace of one beer every 20 minutes. This should get me near the lead. If I need to make a sprint at the finish, so be it. Currently there are 13 adults and one infant here. AC seems to be tired from his match against Nedick last night, so he's not drinking. The only mistake made so far is that Spawn is starting with 4 Guinness 15oz. pub cans. Dumb move. I can't promise that I will have anymore updates, as I may forget to come upstairs the rest of the day. Pray for me.

Less Than 24 Until 30 in 8

One of the greatest events of the year is tomorrow: 30 in 8. For those of you who don't know what 30 in 8 is, here you go: in 2001, 3 Iams employees (John "Don't Call Me Ashcroft" Ashcraft, Jamie "I'll Do Anyone Here, Except the Guys" Belanger, and Marc "Shit Happens, People Get Drunk" Wiescinski) were conversing with another Iams employee (Andy "Eyes Bigger Than His Tolerance" Taylor), who was a couple years old than they were. Much to the delight of a long-dead Charles Darwin, Andy proclaimed that he could drink 30 beers in 8 hours. John, Jamie, and Marc scoffed at this idiotic remark, to which Andy replied, "It's less than 4 beers an hour." The three laughed at Andy and told him to put his tolerance where his mouth was. And so it was born. On a subsequent Saturday, the four convened at someone's residence, along with a few other contestants and lookers-on. Each person was to bring their own 30 beers. Andy, much to the dismay of a long-dead Charles Darwin, showed up with a 6-pack of fire-brewed Stroh's. Every year since then, on a fall Saturday, the tradition continues as a celebration of beer, college football, and grilled meat.

The rules are simple. Beginning at noon, you try to drink 30 beers in 8 hours. You must bring your own beer, and you can choose any brand/type you want (except non-alcoholic). If you puke, you're disqualified (but still welcome to continue drinking). The leader wears the yellow jersey, and the winner keeps the jersey until the next 30 in 8. Women are allowed, but their shirts are not.

Upon first hearing about it, a surprising amount of guys say, "Oh, I could definitely do that. No problem." Except for the top 0.5% of drinkers, this type of thinking is nothing but unfounded hubris. The closest anyone has come is 26, and he was about 6'3", 220.

It has grown to about 15-20 people. The race is long and unforgiving. Friends and enemies are made along the way. Here are some highlights from years past:
2001: Steve "Don't Call Me Mae" West breaks his pinky while playing football. Matt Connor falls asleep in the middle of the competition.
2002: Chris "Whalin'" Thelen pummels the hood of his rental car with a broom. Matt Connor falls asleep in the middle of the competition.
2003: Tony "The Artist Formerly Known as T Diddy" Green drinks 12 beers in the first 2 hours, then passes out for the remaining 6 hours of the competition. Also, Scott "Old Man" George and Marc tie, resulting in a shot-off: 5 shots of Jager in 5 minutes. Both do it, but Marc pukes first, so Scott gets the victory. Matt Connor falls asleep in the middle of the competition.
2004: Jon Locke breaks the 30 in 8 record, winning the competition with 26, holding off a literally blinding rally by yours truly. Matt Connor falls asleep in the middle of the competition.

For reasons unknown to me, Jessie agreed to let me host it on her birthday weekend, so she's off to Chicago for the weekend. Mentally, I'm ready. Liverly, I'm somewhat ready. I will try my best to give you increasingly less coherent updates throughout the day tomorrow.

Kudos to "NaviKate" Rohrer for using her sweet skills in magic and graphic design to come up with this:

Happy Birthday to a Legend

Today, we here at Give Me Your Handrew are wishing a happy 26th birthday to Jessie. Rather than a simple "happy birthday," GMYH will pay tribute by chronicling the events in her life that have come to define her as a human being:

September 23, 1979: While attending a Wisconsin Badger football game, a woman goes into labor and is rushed to nearby Janesville to give birth to what she thought was a healthy 7-pound girl. Shortly after the birth of the woman's first daughter, the doctor exclaims, "Holy shit, there's another one in there!" Jessie was born at 3 pounds -- petite, yet feisty.
Sometime between 1979 and 1998: Jessie moves from Wisconsin to Ft. Wayne, Indiana, and then to Roanoke, Indiana.
January 18, 1988: While playing in the snow, Jessie finds two frozen, dead birds. Rather than not touch them, she picks them up and plays with them. When they become "mushy," she places them in a bag and puts them into her family's freezer so that she can play with them whenever she wants.
June 12, 1991: At age 11, Jessie officiates her first cockfight, wearing a pilgrim outfit for some reason.
October 15, 1996: At age 17, Jessie becomes the youngest elected President of NEIACO (the Northeast Indiana Association of Cockfighting Officials).
May 1998: Jessie graduates from Huntington North High School. Unbeknownst to her, she left an indelible mark on the school, its students, and the greater Huntington area.
August 1998: Jessie enrolls at Indiana University. While there, she will switch her majors approximately twelve times.
August 25, 1999: While attending a party at Pi Kappa Phi fraternity at IU, Jessie comes across a debonair treasure hunter named Andrew. A series of lies and misrepresentations results in Jessie making the mistake of giving her number to Andrew, as the all-too-apt "My Own Worst Enemy" by Lit played in the background.
November 13, 2001: Jessie garners the nickname "Pea Head" after Andrew realizes he can palm her head.
May 2002: Jessie graduates from Indiana University with a B.A. in Art History.
August 2002: Jessie enters graduate school at Indiana University, pursuing a Masters of Library Science, and an M.A. in Art History.
September 14, 2002: Trying to make ends meet in graduate school, Jessie debuts as "Cassandra the Librarian" at Night Moves. Her patented "Shhhhh" move would not only earn her hundreds of dollars, but would also earn her a Poley (the Exotic Dancers Guild's equivalent to the Oscar) for Best Original Table Dance.
August 4, 2003: Along with Vern, Jessie co-authors her first book, "Ernest Goes to Hell: The Life, Times, and Mistakes of Jim Varney."
January 16, 2004: After a series of negotiations riddled by massive consumption of opiates, Jessie agrees to take Andrew's hand in marriage, but only on the condition that Andrew cuts all ties with NAMBLA.
August 2004: Jessie graduates from IU with her MLS.
November 2, 2004: Jessie votes in the U.S. presidential election, her first free election since emigrating from her native Rwanda.
June 11, 2005: Despite the best efforts of friends, family, and various foreign dignitaries, Jessie weds Andrew.
June 20, 2005: After falling asleep in Chicago as a result various downers administered by Andrew, Jessie wakes up 6 hours later in Dayton, Ohio. Andrew says, "Surprise!"
August 9, 2005: Jessie attends her first Def Leppard concert, but certainly not her last.
September 10, 2005: At a tailgate before the Indiana/Nicholls State football game, Jessie is given Huntington North High School "Legend" status by a 2002 HNHS graduate who Jessie had never seen, met, or heard of before (and who had consumed double digit beers and was walking a dog he proclaimed multiple times didn't belong to him).
September 15, 2005: Jessie publishes her second book, "Do Houses in Arizona Have Gutters? And Other of Life's Unanswerable Questions."

After a myriad of accomplishments in her first 26 years, where does Jessie go next? Recently I caught up with Jessie at her seven-acre ranch in downtown Dayton, and she had this to say: "Andrew, quit being such an asshole." While she may be leaving her future to the speculation of tabloid writers, one thing is for sure: Jessie turns 26 today.

You Think the Carpet Pissers Did This?

I don't have much to talk about today, so this will be a rare short post. Last night Jessie and I went to an IU Alumni Association (Dayton Chapter) happy hour, attended by approximately 6 IU alums. As the Co-Social Chair, I need to figure out a way to increase attendance. Maybe I'll wrestle this deer-eating croc.

Tonight is The OC, so I'm pumped about that. I'm not sure what Ryan's going to do now that he's going to be booted from Harbor, but I'm sure it will involve brooding. And from the looks of the commercials, it will also involve him and Marissa taking the one-eyed monster to the optometrist in some sort of homemade wigwam on the beach.

Funny line from "Public Service Announcement" by The Bravery: "You put the 'art' in 'retarded.'" I don't get it, but I like it.

A Day at the Malibu Sands Beach Club

Ever have a really annoying song in your head that you haven't heard in years? Since I woke up this morning I have had one of the more annoying songs of all-time seared on my brain, and I don't even know the title. It's that damn song from Grease that has the "shuba-shu-bop-sha-bop" in it (yes, I do realize how completely emasculating it was to write that last sentence). The worst part is that I've never seen Grease (movie or play), save for a laughable 30-minute version on a cruise in 1994 performed by people who would likely never leave the Norwegian Seeward stage. So I assume that was the only time I've heard the song in its entirety. My hope is that this curse has befallen me only because a young and tangy Olivia Newton-John appeared last night in a dream in which there were many ever-so-delightful misunderstandings.

Last night a bunch of peeps went over to the hizouse of Jamie "Mountie" Belanger and Amy "Clalahan" Belanger to see their new child, Aiden Cole "AC" Belanger. Joining me were the likes of Jessie "The Legend" LeMar, "NaviKate" Rohrer, Marc "Tron" Wiescinski, John "I Don't Like Titles" Ashcraft, and Erin "OC" Campbell. AC's Jeri Curl mullet is growing in very nicely, and I really think he has a solid shot at beating Nedick in the big wrestling meet against Valley this Friday. Jamie seems to be handling fatherhood well, as evidenced by this picture of him slamming a beer with his left hand and holding AC with his right. Needless to say, I'm eagerly awaiting their next child, who I can only assume will be a blond surfer-type who has a penchant for mischief and a taste for honey, if you know what I mean.

We watched the series premiere of "My Name Is Earl" (www.nbc.com/My_Name_Is_Earl), starring Jason Lee (whose character Brodie in Mallrats is possibly my favorite character in movie history). The premise is that Earl is a ne'er-do-well who hears about the concept of karma while watching Carson Daly awkwardly interview someone on his talk show. When Earl decides that he will atone for all the bad things he done in his life by doing good deeds, hilarity ensues. Also starring in the show is the second sauciest little tart of all saucy little tarts, Jaime Pressly (in case you're wondering, the sauciest is Eva Longoria, hands down). My sincere hope is that the show inspires more people to name their kids Earl. There aren't nearly enough Earls in the world, but try to name an Earl that isn't great. It's damn near impossible. Earl Campbell, Earl "The Pearl" Morrall, Earl Boykins, Earl Weaver. All of them, American heroes.

We also watched the season premiere of "The Office" (www.nbc.com/The_Office), starring the 40-year-old virgin himself, Steve Carell. If you haven't seen it, it's hilarious. Watch it.

With the combination of "The Biggest Loser," a touching reality show that helps morbidly obese people come to the blinding realization that their only real hope is gastric bypass surgery or death, "My Name Is Earl," and "The Office," NBC's Tuesday night line-up easily outshines its "Must See" Thursday night line-up. I can't believe "Joey" is still on.

Ever notice that you're slightly dsylexic?