Losing.

Charlie Sheen has affected my life this week. Not due to his blatant love of winning, tiger's blood, hookers, and illicit drugs...not because his now-hiatused (is that a word?) sitcom provided moral and intellectual value to our society (it does/did not. God, it's awful)...not because I even give a rat's ass about what happens next to this freakshow. Wisely, I think, cause his days are pretty much numbered.


No, Carlos Estevez has actually affected me for two good reasons.

Reason #1: I hate Tweeting.
My train-wreck loving self finally got back on twitter to follow said wreck (why? Whhhyyyyyy???), which meant I a) finally got caught up on ShhhDon'tTellSteve (best.feed.ever) and b) remembered that I hate twitter. Both good things.

Reason #2: Reinforcement that my husband has the best boss in the world.
Enter Charlie Sheen Night with the Bakersfield Condors. Dude, it's made national news. That's freakin' hysterical. Talk about having a sense of humor, even with all the local morality police throwing fits about it. (OMG! BY PROMOTING HIM, YOU ARE PROMOTING DOMESTIC VIOLENCE!"...apparently the morality police are fine with illegal drug use and hookers. It's nice to know where they stand.) And I appreciate that. These guys know how to jump on a bandwagon and get some seats filled.

Even my normally pop-culture/current event stunted officemate Opie is getting in on this madness. And this is a guy who's never even seen Two and a Half Men. Ever. Yet everything out of his mouth today has to do with Winning...and he is soooo stoked for the game and doesn't at all seem to appreciate my (nor his wife's) ambivalence towards this man.

Following yet another Winning joke...
Pammy: I effing hate Charlie Sheen right now.
Op: You do not.
Pammy: I do.
Op: Come onnn...you love him.
Pammy: Normally I'd say I don't hate the player, I hate the game...but really, he's the only one playing, soo...

And unfortunately, he seems to be winning. Damn you, Charlie Sheen. I just can't look away.