Worship at the Church of the Giant Weenie.

In this post: Weenie worship, more slave labor.

Mazel tov to the Christian Science Society of Dixon, Illinois, who built a church that looks like a great big phallus with testicles when viewed by Google Earth from outer space. I’ll bet it wasn’t intentional but it’s definitely outrageously adorable. Holy crap, right?

It’s 3:15 in the morning. I should be in bed at this hour but I’m extremely worried about Sam. I called him at the office about an hour ago (around 2) and he’s so buried with work that I’m afraid he’ll have a heart attack. He’s assembling a massive client project that’s supposed to file electronically with the SEC at 6 a.m., but there’s nobody in the office except him and I’ll bet he hasn’t even had five minutes to pee or eat pizza since sometime yesterday afternoon. It’s inhuman not to let a guy pee or eat pizza!

Sam’s hours SCARE THE LIVING CRAP out of me. The week of October 13 he worked 44 hours Monday through Friday and another 40 on Saturday and Sunday. That’s not a typo, people … he worked 84 hours in seven days WITH NO SLEEP WHATSOEVER over the weekend. He got home at 7 a.m. Monday and remained unconscious for 24 hours not counting two showers and a couple of microwaved corn dogs.

I’m ANGRY. If Sam gets sick from this I’m going to shlep myself downtown and BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF SOMEBODY WITH MY  CANE! (Forgive me, but that sentence has no impact whatsoever if I substitute the word “poop.”) For your possible interest the map below indicates: A) Howdygram headquarters; B) Sam’s office in downtown Dallas; and C) George W. Bush’s house in snooty Preston Hollow. (George is a stay-at-home retiree who paints pictures.)

I should get some rest or my blood sugar will be whacked-out for the rest of the day. Lack of sleep is crappy for diabetics. Thank you for reading this.