While the PAP is sleeping off his kava binge and nursing several strange bite wounds on his stumpy li'l tail, I'm wresting control of the Exclusive Blah Blah Blah at Panzo.org.

To tell you what?

Well...um... Ah! Yesterday, I caulked rotted wood! Isn't that special?

I caulked over a six-by-four foot section of tongue and groove board whose old caulk had split or separated or fell off or was dug out by the Pernicious Pygmy Caulk Weevil (I. Eatumupus Caulki).

Minus the caulk, water had seeped between the tongues and grooves of the tongue and groove board (due to its being elderly to begin with and poorly caulked to compund it all) and rotted the boards.

My task was to implement a "Value Engineered" solution which was presented to me as directions to the nearest Home Depot and the whispered word, "Caulk."

Currently, the only thing holding those god damned boards together is four tubes of clear acrylic caulk with silicone ("applies white, dries to clear").

Anyone who knows me, knows that I hate-hate-hate to do half-assed stuff like that so you can imagine how I felt yesterday. Sure, I did my best but I wasn't happy doing it.

Let's see... Today I answered a major emergency when the Teriyaki Babe lost her Ladies Room key. I rushed right down to Teriyaki Babe and gave her a new key and, boy, was she happy (I bet she was holding it for a darn long time).

Ahhh...The Teriyaki Babe. What a sweetie. Korean. Very pretty. I could spend all day just barbecuing her cat because she refuses to love me. Married. Alas.

Now here's a tangent that's worthy of me: ugly women. Many guys have heard that many women have big, mental problems with their looks (their own looks, not guys' looks).

Supposedly, women spend inordinate amounts of time wishing their chins were...so, or that their noses were like...so, or that their butts were more...you know, or that their legs had less...you know, and so on.

Yet I see beautiful women all day every day. I mean, every second woman I see is pretty and I'd beat a baby seal just to earn a hard kick in the crotch from every third woman I see if it meant that I could be close to them for a nanosecond.

So what gives?

Not that I want to deluged by uggums but, where are the homely chicks?

Okay, dwell on that. I have to go. The Plastic Action Poodle is talking in his sleep and I have to listen to find if he says anything about where he put my collection of Rick Springfield CDs.