Most/Least favorite days: Fridays suck. Mondays are sublime. (I work weekends). Loverboy claimed "Everybody's Working for the Weekend..." I'm working for the weekend's end. My favorite day of the week used to be Pizza Night -- when I was a kid. Now that I'm a grown-up, every night is Pizza Night if I damn well please. I often mitigate the psychological anguish of Fridays by making it Pizza Night.
How much sleep: Eight-and-a-half. Eight isn't enough. That last thirty minutes have all the rejuvenating power packed inside.
Song that takes you back in time: She's Tight, by Cheap Trick. Man, oh man. Does that song bring back memories. Unfortunately the details exceed the boundaries of good taste and blogger sensibility.
Guilty Pleasure: I have a few. Sometimes I crank call PETA -- I pretend I'm calling a restaurant and ask whether they serve baby seal meat. Other times I read the Finance Page of the newspaper in public and mockingly quip, "What? I thought Obama was supposed to fix that!" Or I'll watch C.S.I.-Whatever and try to guess which suspect the spunk belongs to. Honestly, how many murder mysteries are solved by way of male ejaculate in real life? TV forensic science is 90 percent spunk. Go figure. I don't suspect I'll ever murder somebody. But should I someday yield to the temptation and croak some deserving a-hole, I'm not rubbing one out afterward. That's just uncouth.