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Friday, December 30, 2005

It doesn't matter if your weenie son's team's down by one run in the ninth and there's a close call at the plate. If you can't be fair, what kind of man are you? I mean, really, what kind of man are you?
-Mike B.

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Mike K. will probably tell ya there's nothing like a job well done. Nothing. Not even a job well done is like a job well done. That's the thing, it's a conundrum. But I don't want to get all philosophical on you. It's just that sitting in that patrol car all day, driving around endlessly, it just gives a man a lot of time to think. A lot of time. To think.

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

How does a low-level employee in the Accounting Department, a guy so invisible that he was called Bill, John, Paul, Dale, Dick and Rod by his superiors in the very same day, how does a guy like this manage to drain 23 million dollars of the company's hard earned cash into an account at a local bank in Aruba?

Ask Ted J.

That is, if you can locate him.

Monday, December 26, 2005

Three days after the inauguration, Mike found himself in a deli three states away from where the party started. Drunk. Still drunk. And looking for some flapjacks.

Friday, December 23, 2005

Ever since that incident at the pastry shop, Mike C. just hasn't been himself.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Ted M. will neither confirm or deny that he's working on a time machine in his garage. So we all pretty much think it's true.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

One day there will be a revolution in the world
of the assistant account executive.
And Todd M. is going to lead it.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

"Goddamitt Beth," Mike C. said, "for the last time, it's not a television, it's an entertainment center."

Thursday, December 15, 2005

There's a saying in Todd's family. 'You don't get what you pay for, you get a little bit more." And that's probably the reason for the family's vice grip dominance in leisure craft sales.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

You're forgetting one simple fact about Ted S.: he knows how to kill.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Mike. Virtually unbeatable at Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon.
How's that for some shit?

Monday, December 12, 2005

Mike M.'s secret:
Everybody's a customer.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

Todd H. wanted a puppy so badly that he thought he would die. Turns out that he was so allergic to the little Springer Spaniel he got at the Pet's Mart that he almost did. Throat swelled up like a basketball, no joke. Anyhooo, to make a long story short, his mom told him to stop being a pussy about the fact that they had to go get their money back and to think outside the 'crate.' Wasn't until old Percy came along that Todd began to realize just what it meant to have a soul mate.

Saturday, December 10, 2005

When he was dressing for the reunion, Ted W. couldn't help but think that he pretty much looked that same as he did in high school. He wondered if Sally M. did too.

Friday, December 09, 2005

Ask Mike C. and he'll tell you:
"The show's not about me. It's about fun."
Go on, ask him.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Twenty-eight minutes after taking this photo, Todd W. ate the ham sandwich that quote-unquote changed his fucking life.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

"When you're young you do a lot of dumb shit.
That thing, that thing with the dumpster was stupid.
Just plain stupid."

--Todd T.
When you bet against Mike B., you bet wrong.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Ted C. once gave a man his coat. He once gave a homeless family all the groceries he'd just purchased at the store. He once donated his entire paycheck to help out a neighbor who'd fallen on hard times. But for some reason---and he's pondered this quite a few times---he waits for his family to go to sleep before breaking out the chocolate chip cookies so he has more to himself.

Later that night Ted C. would find himself filled with all the questions he really wanted answered beside the requisite howareya? Things like where'd the money go?

Monday, December 05, 2005

One minute after Todd B. landed the plane, on that remote strip of Montana wilderness, he heard the sweet cut of the Border Patrol helicopters' blades. He'd taken the same chance a hundred and twelve times before. This time, the results did vary.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Mike L. doesn't really think of it as a competiton of speed. He thinks of it as a competion of heart.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

When he's not reaching out with the long arm of the law, Todd B. can be found in his basement assembling a completely accurate 1:16 replica of the U.S.S. Constitution that he will, when it is complete, consider his life's work. His wife sometimes stands in the doorway and shakes her head unsure whether she's amazed or perplexed.

Friday, December 02, 2005

Mike C's caught bigger walleyes before. Much bigger. Much, much bigger. But those fish, well, he just didn't have it in him to haul them in.
Ted rocketed himself to the top of the corporate food chain by using a cunning clutch/brake combo of sincerity and genuine misanthropy. Stock prices are up and shareholders are happy.