The Star of the Show

Recently I overnighted at Dulles in Northern Virginia, which is not too far from where Fish lives. I called him, we exchanged the obligatory insults, and arranged to get together for some lunch before I left for Chicago the next day. Many of you who received the original email announcing the birth of this blog may remember that I warned everyone they'd likely be ridiculed at one time or another. Fisher could read the writting on the wall, saying, "I'm gonna have a F%!^ing starring role in this thing!" Well Fish, you're right. Of all the people I know in my life, few are as likely to be verbally assaulted as Fish. Not just because it's easy, but because, in all fairness, he turns it around with surprising speed and accuracy. Especially for someone of his limited intelligence. Most of my friends would tell you that the more I make fun of you, the more I like you. If this were true, I'd have asked Fisher to marry me years ago. And if you think that's disturbing, consider this: about a year ago Fish married a nice girl by the name of Jen. Jen is a beautiful, thin, intelligent, gal. Fish is an ugly, fat, ignorant, unskilled, asshole. I constantly ask him if his wife has figured out she's too good for him. His typical response: "Not yet, and I hope she never does." To all you bachelors out there, don't lose hope. If Fisher did it, ANYONE can do it. Just think of it as trying to catch a fly ball that gets lost in the lights... right Fish?