IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN.

I've been going out of mind getting ready for the big trip to Houston. I have lists of things to do all over the place: on my notepad, on a sheet of paper on my desk at home, on my work budget, on my work schedule and on my hand.

Here's a look at my goals in the weeks before leaving and if I achieved them.

Watch my top 12 WrestleMania matches: Check.
Watch Season 11 of Cheers (28 episodes): Check.
Watch Season 1 & 2 of Wings (24 episodes): Check.
Start Season 2 of Lost: Check.
See three movies at the theatre. X. (More like none.)
Keep up with primetime television: Check.
Make a WrestleMania mix CD. Check.
Pack: Yeah, like who does that before the day before departing?

My Wednesday also is jam-packed. On the agenda:

-- Call the Hornets ticket office and complain about getting overcharged by 10 bucks on my last ticket purchase.
-- Pack.
-- Go to Chuck's house for Guys Night. The morning-line odds of Bob being awake: 2 to 1.
-- Be caught up on TV before I leave.

On Monday night, Paul and I were discussing what time to leave Thursday. I suggested 11 a.m. He said he'd rather 9 or 10 a.m. So, we compromised and settled at 10 a.m. Then, Paul asked me something that stopped me in my tracks, and I still can't believe the question.

Paul: "When we go to Houston, do we like lose or gain an hour?"

Keep in mind that Paul has traveled to Houston about four times in his life. He has a favorite Houston restaurant, for crying out loud. It doesn't bother me that he didn't know Houston was in Central time. It does bother me, however, that he thought there was a possibility that we could lose an hour when we're driving in the opposite direction of Eastern time.

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom is worried about my figure. "You need to lose some fucking weight. First it's 10 pounds. Then 20. Soon, it's spiralling out of fucking control." (I segue into talking about mom's diet.) "I stopped getting on the scale for a few days. It (weight) was just sitting. So, fuck it."

Mom is polishing her nails. She misses a spot. "Fuck!" She then looks out to the backyard. "Oh, man. I hate this fucking tree. Fucking hurricane might knock it down." (It's a magnolia.)

From the world of television.
-- On Lie to Me not coming on this week in the local market. "Shit. Motherfuck."
-- On an ad for a new show. "What's Cupid? Is that a new fucking show?"
-- On a patient's secrets coming out on House. "All the bullshit. ... That's when all the shit comes out. At the hospital."
-- On the trick played on 24. "Ain't nobody fucking in there."
-- On Jack getting infected. "They gonna cure his ass?"
-- On a soap opera storyline. "Oh. He really loves her. I thought he was just fucking around."
-- On us not receiving the next disc of Lost, even though we sent the last disc back Thursday and we got an e-mail Monday saying we'd get it Tuesday. "This place is fucked."

FOUR CORNERS
A closer look at the Gene Pool World.

-- I've had two random guesses come up exactly right recently. Last Friday when I started my car upon leaving work, I guessed (as I do every night) the temperature my car would show. It was the first time I ever got it spot on. 57 degrees.

Then, Tuesday night at work, Brick asked the group how long we all thought a story would be when he measured it. There were about six guesses. Mine was dead-on.

Brick: "You need to go to Harrah's tonight." You don't have to tell me twice.

-- On Monday night, I asked Sandy how to spell the word for that irritating noise one makes when telling someone they are incorrect.

Me: You know. (And I make the noise.)
Sandy: Oh, OK.
Me: It's got to be like B-O-M something.
Sandy: Yeah. I'd say end it with a P.
Me: You sure it shouldn't be a B at the end. That sounds right.
Sandy: No. I'd go with P.

I say it out loud with a P and agree. I then say it out loud with a B. And it was at that moment that I finally realized I was spelling bomb. What a doofus.

-- My fellow editors have recently caught two HUGE mistakes by writers. Like, we could be in some trouble right now if they hadn't been fixed.

a) A couple Saturdays ago, Derry was reading an LSU story that said: "The Tigers missed six shits in a row." I certainly hope they've seen someone about that clogged colon by now.

b) Bake caught this in a Hornets story: "Consider how the dick was stacked." That's what Ted said.

-- Hornets thoughts V
a) I've been mostly ignoring the NBA during the NCAA Tournament. Wake me up when the playoffs start.
b) This team is much different with Peja and Tyson in the lineup. They miss Peja so much it's as CP3 would say, crazy.
c) Julian seems to make one freaky athletic play a game. I enjoy these.
d) Given the right matchups, the Wasps can still make noise in the playoffs. I don't like all the negativity being said about the team in the local community. I do like that people are sleeping on them again.

PARTING SHOTS
Bake sees an item on the wire about former Hornet Kirk Snyder getting arrested. He's not sure what part of the section to put it in.

Bake: D, What's the rule of thumb on former NBA players in trouble with the law?
Me: They probably did it.

The Ironman 70.3 New Orleans is this Sunday.

Brick (to Marcus): You gonna run in the Ironman?
Marcus: I'll run and get something to eat, but that's about it.

Max is looking at the groupings for World Cup qualifying.

Max (to me): Check out this group. North Korea, South Korea.
Me: Marilyn Monroe.

THE DAILY TOP LIST
My top five moments of March.

5) Parking lot ticket. March 3.
I haven't got one since. Marcus, on the other hand, is at six.

4) Computer upgrade at work. March 12.
This new XP system has revolutionized my daily routine. Though sometimes, it seems that the Internet is even worse.

3) Hornets-Rockets ticket debacle. March 16.
I learned that sometimes cheaper seats are better.

2) One night, two dinners. March 10.
Ate two of Little Joe's hamburgers and then some hibachi chicken. Me was full.

1) North Carolina March Madness highlights.
Completing a sweep of Duke
Tyler breaking the ACC scoring record vs. Radford
That disgusting LSU-UNC matchup
Qualifying for the Final Four