Whenever ESPN gets to the point where they run the inevitable "Top-25 Clutch-Ass Moments" they will invariably get to your Kirk Gibson home runs, your Michael Jordan shots, your John Elway and the Drive. If they haven't already done so, they can add another great Clutch-Ass moment to the list. That clutch-ass moment is how one person, that being Your Humble Narrator, down to pretty much his last week, his last job interview, his last chance to find a job before having to move back home with the Parents, got a job. And not just any job, but the job with Super-Mondo Corporation and the Gobs of Money. That's right, that's right, we bad, we bad.

How clutch was it? I had pretty much told my dad that if I didn't get that job, I was giving up and moving back home. My mother had laid it down and told me that she'll support me staying here, but I'd have to give up my apartment and move in with friends. I had even talked to a friend who was packing up and moving about packing up and moving with him. But nuh-huh, ain't happening. After pretty much a year of trying, I managed to pull this one out of my ass in little less than a week- call for interview on Monday, first interview Tuesday, second interview Thursday morning, job offer Thursday Afternoon, passed out drunk Thursday night.

And how do I feel? Like I've just gotten the best damn massage in the world, all blissed out and happy. I feel like I should have a smoke. Actually, after threatening to celebrate Biblical style, I find myself now feeling a little less like partying and a little more like sleeping. A whole lot of sleeping.