I hate Trevor Linden

I don't really hate Trevor Linden, but I'd probably be a whole lot more alert and a whole lot less hungover if the Canucks could have used their brains and retired his number on a WEEKEND. Instead, they pick a wednesday, and now my thursday is completely useless. Thanks Canucks...you bastards.

So, how hungover is Tim? I was walking from metrotown skytrain station to the bus loop, and I happened to look down and glance at my feet. Yes, I can actually still see my feet, assholes. Anyway, I look down, and what do I see?

A brown shoe. And a black shoe.

I shit you not, I was so fucking out of it I put on two different-coloured shoes to wear to work today. Nicely done, retard. And, of course, this would be the ONE day that a hot girl decides to sit across from me. And notice my attire. And stifle a laugh. I guess it was a good thing though, because she couldn't resist and had to ask what the deal was...if I knew hot women would talk to me about unmatching shoes, I woulda pulled that shit years ago! Anyway, I had to tell her I lost a bet. Go Tim. How original.

So, I'm sitting here at work drinking tomato juice and laughing at my own retardedness, and a (very dim) lightbulb turns on in my head. The hamster starts running on his wheel. Pick any shitty analogy you like. Anyway, I know my co-workers and boss will tease me about this when they notice, so I think "Hey! If I just take my shoes off and walk around in socks all day (like everyone else does here), I can hide my unmatching shoes and no one will notice!" Good idea, right?

No. I take off my shoes, and...guess. Fucking guess.

Yup, you guessed it. Two different-coloured socks. One grey, one black.

I'm not looking forward to the trip home.