Tonight, I helped my friend with some work on his yacht. He paid somewhere in the hundreds of thousands for the thing, and he’s doing his own maintenance on it. No big deal, but why does he insist on doing the icky things like replacing the holding tank (where the sewage is held)? He bought me part of dinner, but of course Mister Moneybags didn’t have much cash on him and I had to pitch in. You think that helping someone work on any sort of sewer systems would get you dinner at the very least. Heh.

I suppose my friend Keith still owes me the proper payment for helping him move years ago (beer and pizza) but after all this time I really just want my copy of the first season of Futurama back. Plus, he’s a destitute gradual student. I’m just glad that I didn’t have to help him count the Vaux swift populations as they flew into the chimney at Chapman School in Portland, OR. Night after night, counting the silly things. (I’ve helped him for several years already.) His specialty is ornithology, but mine is computer science

What do I know about birds? I just divide them into two types: tasty and non-tasty.