Joy of joys, happy 'the date is 90210' day! What a lovely reason to get totally preoccupied reliving my past TV glories. Heartbreak. Like most forays in to youtube, watching simple clips quickly transcends to watching Sophie B. Hawkins' Damn I Wish I was Your Lover and fan tribute videos (omg please watch this). It could take me days to get through all these.

Sorry the bottom right image is blurry, but I had to include the only image on the whole wide world wide web of Donna's baseball dress because I think of it at least once a week.

The internet is so strong and steadfast when you need a pick me up. Every time it's rainy and stormy (today) there's a corgi doing a belly flop to cheer you right up. But some days you really need the big guns…some days you accidentally see a dead person (yesterday) and really just can't shake it. Guys, that's when the internet reminds us about the best 49 seconds of TV. Thank you, Mr. Gervais.

Thanks for the link, Colin. If anyone needs me the rest of the afternoon, you can find me knee deep in highlight videos.

While recently discussing the age old "what will you do once you're independently wealthy after creating bumper nuts for bikes" question, I realized I really had no grand scheme (outside of living in Malibu and building an exact replica of the Beetlejuice house post-remodel). For shame! How was I so unprepared for my unavoidable prosperity? Sure, I have a bucket list that includes owning a soft serve machine, having a sexual encounter inside the perimeter of Dollywood (sorry), and having an army of costumed corgis - but those are just single ideas…what's my real purpose supposed to be?

Luckily, friends were quick to point out the obvious. I'm to be a baby animal birth witness. While my specialty will of course be pygmy hippos, I will work my hardest to witness the live births of all god's creatures (only the cute ones). I will quickly rise in the ranks of the Animal Kingdom's high society and be on every zoo, aquarium, reserve, ranch, and farm's radar. I will have a dedicated line and a batmanesque light signal in the sky (but it's tiny paws) to alert me at the first signs of adorable labor. Notification must be instant so the readied private jet can be cleared and my pre packed travel furryfriendbirthbag can be grabbed.

No power player is complete without a sidekick, of course. Which is why I'll have a baby Koala bear with me at all times, probably named Buzz or Lando or John Marston. While he'll mostly just want to hug me, I'll also respect the natural Koala way and have a little Bonzai tree (cuter then whatever they actually live in) carried around as my shadow in which for him to perch. I already have a lead on my future Bonzai Carrier, as it's an enviable employment position.

So that's pretty much the long and short of my future life…traveling the world photographing and hugging the cutest of the cute (seriously you guys, ugly need not apply). Like a wildlife midwife or doula, minus the stupid pretension and actual work. Jealoussss?

This dream is brought to you by ZooBorns

Mae Whitman, I salute you. You are crazy talented, and it took me half the season of the new Parenthood show to even realize that you're Ann Hog! I had such mixed feelings about the show - ecstasy at the thought of any adaptation of one of the best movies everevereverevereverever, followed by pure terror at the inevitability of ruining my memory of one of the best movies evereverevereverever. What's that, Maura Tierney is in it? Joy! Wait…she has cancer and dropped out (don't worry she's ok now) to be replaced by Poopy McGilmoreGirl Lady? Can Nate Fisher ever be Cowboy Gil? No, but he's still lovely and he still works at a shoe company. Erika Christensen is just as annoying as her original counterpart Susan, but her husband Joel is way hotter than lil Rick Moranis. Who ever thought the Uncle Larry equivalent would steal the show, especially Dax Sherpard!? Tattoos make all of the difference, apparently.

Max is cute, but not as heart stealing as little Kevin, who existed in a pre-popularization-of-aspergers world. I was worried that the teenagers in this variation would never be able to live up to Martha Plimpton and Keanu Reeves shaving each other's heads. And well, they don't. But. They're still quite good. Hatty is 15 and more poised than I, and Amber is the best crier ever.

Coach!! I'm not sure anyone could ever replace Jason Robards. I mean, "That's a little kid! Justin could be up that Kid!". But Craig T. is sure trying.

Do you like how I mixed actors' real names with character names interchangeably, thus making this post completely incoherent for anyone that hasn't seen the new show's entire first season and the movie at least 33 times? Psssh, don't care.

P.S. For the record, I think I've seen Parenthood more than 33 times.

P.P.S. You know what's a weird thing to google? "parenthood stop hurting my sister". One of the best quotes ever, but the results are things like "Rectoseal: When will it stop hurting?".

I'm really glad you exist, Mr. Murray.

And of course the Broncos took Tebow. Of COURSE.

GO HUSKIES. Oh lovely men, may you blaze in glory to the elite 8. From Seattle, to Los Angeles; from Missouri City to London…the basketball gods have brought you together to to rein in another win. They've aligned the stars to spread Seattle pride and joy, and to propel my bracket to the ultimate splendor (although I'm already winning the office pool, so NBD). They've brought you here to dance.

And now, a poem:

Lorenzo. Romar. Strong, spirited, you win. So no more long face.
Mr. Gaddy, Abdul. You strike fear in opponents. And teabaggers.
Little man, your heart and name laugh, Venoy.
Quincy to the Pon-dex-ter. Educate like Exeter.
Isiah Thomas, so many of you. But YOU the man, the best.
Scott Suggs? I want hugs, of the 6''6' variety.
Elston from Elkins High, we elect; to elate and elevate.
GO. GO! FIGHT. FIGHT! WIN. WIN!

The End.

I have no idea when it stopped, but I don't know much at all about popular music anymore. The only time I'm introduced to new "cool" songs is in kickboxing, which only partially explains why I want to jab, cross, hook, and uppercut the shit out of everything when I hear this song.

The point is, my idea of R&B is still pretty much this. And I realized that ever since I got a car again, I spend all of my driving time listening to movin' 92.5 because they're sure to play it at least once a day. I'll never find a better song to scream sing to.

Quite possibly one of the best and most exciting emails I've ever received:

I LOVE YOU, CESAR!! I love your silly roller blades, your lovely attitude, and your ability to improve people's lives every day. I love that you can't pronounce 'whisperer', thus referring to yourself as 'the dog whisper'. I love that your 100th episode special almost made me cry, and I love your pack. I love your button downs and chinos. Keep up the good work you lil pack leader!

I know that your twitter account is probably run by a 20 year old intern, but that cannot and will not stop me from picturing you in your office, dictating your message to me while Junior typed it. And of course he was wearing glasses.