No, this isn’t actually a post about faux wrestling matches, even though that would both get my post written and be the low point of my day. This is about something else just as terrible, however.

An Introduction: Meet Josh Weed. He has a blog named after himself because he’s that kind of a person and it’s super hilarious and you will probably find yourself, much like I did a few weeks back, reading every one of his posts, snort laughing to yourself while your spouse played video games wondering why you were being such a weirdo. In case you need the additional help, you can find his blog here. Don’t do anything rash and head over to his blog right now because that would mean I’d lose readership immediately and we can’t have that. Finish reading this, then head to his blog and continue following it till he doesn’t post again, and then return back home.

Photo courtesy of joshweed.com. I am nothing, if not magnanimous, so I clearly took great care in choosing the perfect photo for my blog.

All I can really say, without giving too much away, are these two words: Bambi nuggets.

Josh and I have a long history of being friendly pseudo friends. We haven’t ever done anything like hang out with each other, but when I was in middle school I saw him give a riveting performance in “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat” and then I was friends with his sister and then his brother and then his other sister. I never really became friends with his youngest brother because he’s seven years younger than me and that would make me a creep. His mom and dad are probably in my top 20 most awesome adults I know. At any rate, he and I know each other well enough for me to refer to his wife by her nickname.

The Low Point

I’m not entirely positive how it is that I got sucked into this, but I started a game of Words with Friends tonight with Mr. Weed. Why on earth would I do such a thing? Because he has heinously left the world of Scrabble for the stupid game and, well, this one time I beat him at Scrabble and it made me feel really positively about how my life was going, and I can’t help but think it might happen again. [Sorry, Shadra, but I’m not going to play with you. I love you, but if you’re still hanging around the Scrabble board, then we’ll just keep it that way. Mmkay? Hugs!] I know, I know, Alec Baldwin plays WWF so we should all play it, on planes and trains and what have you, but I have a difficult time accepting a rip off of my most favoritest game ever in the history of all games ever. In all time. Plus there’s no dictionary.

But that’s not even the low point. I mean, it felt like it would be as I was allowing WWF access to all my personal information on Facebook, but then this happened:

What the heck kind of letters are these!?

Yeah. Friends indeed.

So, Josh Weed, you’re up. Just try and beat my starting word of two points. I dare you.