Congrats, Pat!

Some of you know my old roommate, Patrick. You've probably heard about the shit he's gone through over the last year trying to get a job with The Gov. About this time last year I proofed Patrick's letter of interest for the job for which he's still been awaiting officially official confirmation. That's how long it takes.

Baltimore shall wait no longer for Pat's Bean. Yesterday, I heard from The Master of The Flying Bean himself that The Gov gave its officially official confirmative stamp of official confirmation that they want him to work for them. All of my life I've been saying I know people with top-secret security clearance--but now I won't be lying! But Pat's always had clearance for my pants.

This is a good thing. Pat's been getting desperate, so desperate that he's resorted to substitute teaching little kids. Not that there's anything wrong with substituting--I've been happily dating a substitute teacher for over five years (honey, don't hit me)--but we're talking about Pat... and kids.

One summer in Minoqwa, Wisconsin, I witnessed Patrick encouraging his young cousin to sneak over to the boy's brother, grab his ears, twist, and yell, "Crank it up, fuckers!" So it's good that The Gov has finally got of it's ass.

If you know and love Pat as much as I do, head over to his movie blog and tell him how proud you/we are of him. Also, Patrick's going to be in town this weekend, at least Saturday night, to celebrate, Boulevard Wheat-style. Come out and cheers him away with us.


Mace...out.