Whaddaya think of my new business cards? I just can’t decide which one …

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BJ is pants shopping at the mall, when he chats up the lovely sales clerk. The pair of trousers he wants (his, not hers) is available from another store. So she takes down his info … “Name.” “Address.” “Phone number.”

After giving his number, he charmingly tosses off, “And your number?” And she giggles at this. But then,

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They’re out there. I was reminded of that the other day.

Cool Chicks.

How do you spot them? Well, first, they don’t mind being called “chicks” …

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Biff and I are sick people. That’s a given.

That doesn’t mean we’re necessarily bad people, but we ain’t saints either.

Our corruption of ourselves, each other and the world at large has only begun.

And I apologize in advance.

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So, the past couple of weeks, I’ve been in heavy networking mode. Which is not like me: I’m a wallflower. A pretty, pretty wallflower.

But you gotta get out there, make friends, just for the sake of finding leads for your colleagues.

A strange side effect: offers to hook me up. Yeah, it’s weirding me out, too.

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Off to be a NASCAR-loving, dust-wearing, slack-jawed extra in the new Will Ferrell movie. Hope he does the lovers-in-the-hot-tub character or the Spartan cheerleader or this guy…

We’re glad you’re here — come back every day for the latest on Birmingham and little ol’ me. Or to laugh at all the coding errors, broken links, and oddly inappropriate ads.

Every single day, except weekends. And holidays. And Jewish holidays. And when I’m really hungover.