Horoscopes, before I begin, are total bunk, but that doesn't mean they can't give meaningful advice.

So I sat and pondered over newly-posted editorials and caught up on my news. Since Greg, Nick-From-Next-Door and The D.J are all busy until late on Thursdays, I went over to the Grill to grab a quick dinner when I was hungry, happy to escape the fascist five-o-clock tradition.

Inexplicably, I ran into Ann of Stillwater, and we chose to exploit the random socializaton at hand by sitting down for an unproductive yet entertaining dinner at the Grill. Conversation was had and food was eaten, then we went our seperate ways.

My seperate way led back to the dorm, where I managed to pretend to do homework while working on my "What Dan Wants" radio segment tonight, fooling only myself. The disk I saved the segment on died on me, however, and I was very late for the show by the time I got it fixed.

The usual characters were there: Nick-From-Next-Door, The D.J, and the D.J's female friend, and later in the show The Mustacheless Man and Greg showed up with a prospi. It turns out the prospi belonged to Nick-From-Next-Door. I knew that by then, but you didn't. The poor kid; we're pretty sedate on the weekdays, and there wasn't much to entertain him even with the radio show.

During my segment I went off on Captain Planet. How original of me. Well, in any case, later.