Oh my God dudes, Spring is hitting like a ton of bricks this year. I cannot possibly express to you how great it is to ride the bus home from work and know that I have a good three hours of daylight left, that I can grill hot dogs out on the parking pad if I feel like it. Downtown Baltimore looks like a much scuzzier version of The OC today, girls in hoop earrings hitting the streets en masse. And I'm sitting here with my Propel water and my spicy big bite and my Chewy Spree (whoever opened a 7-11 downtown gets big daps if ever we meet), and I'm seriously considering never walking into an office ever again as long as I live.

Speaking of hot shit, the Suns knocked the Lakers officially out of playoff contention last night, dropping 17 three-pointers on they punk asses and winning by 26 points. Now if someone could just do something about the Spurs, the world would be a truly beautiful place.

And continuing with the hot shit, Bob Dylan's book is some awesome crazy-old-man demented rambling. It kind of reminds me of the Rev Norb columns I used to eat up in Maximumrocknroll (god, I loved those things) - all digression all the time. It's like, "I met this one guy and he said this which reminded me of this one time I was in Egypt hanging out with Tom Petty and he was like, 'You're an old soul, man', which made me think of when I was kicking it in Peoria with Johnny Cash talking about wrestling." It's a whole lot of fun to read, albeit nowhere near as great as an anthology of any ten random Rev Norb columns.