TEAM LAST CALL

Anyway, as a special treat for all of you, we have decided to give you a behind-the-scenes look at a day in the life of Team Last Call, so that you can experience for yourselves what it's like to be a world-famous columnist. Remember, we are trained professionals. Don't try this at home.

9:30 a.m. Turn on computer, plug in iPod.

9:35 a.m. Get coffee, check e-mail.

9:40 a.m. Check MySpace page. Log out.

9:41 a.m. Check MySpace page to see if anyone sent a message while we were logging out.

9:42 a.m. Open new Microsoft Word document.

9:43 a.m. Stare at screen. Get more coffee.

10:02 a.m. Check MySpace.

10:15 a.m. Stare at screen.

10:43 a.m. Read through last month's column and discover that we are terrible writers.

10:44 a.m. Inform everyone in the office that we are terrible writers and officially resign from the Last Call column.

10:45 a.m. Stare at screen.

10:53 a.m. Google our own name.

11:10 a.m. Visit davebarry.com to see what he wrote about this month.

11:11 a.m. Resign from Last Call column.

11:34 a.m. Stare at screen. Coffee, MySpace, e-mail. MySpace.

11:56 a.m. Google ex-girlfriends' names.

12:13 p.m. Write four or five fart jokes. Delete them in disgust.

12:14 p.m. Call wife to inform her that we are terrible writers. Wait for her to assure us that we are good writers.

12:58 p.m. Stare at screen. Make joke about Anna Nicole Smith and realize that our default punchline is no longer funny.

1:00 p.m. Lunch.

1:26 p.m. Stare. Coffee. Google. Coffee. Stare.

1:45 p.m. Crawl under desk. Weep softly.

2:28 p.m. Read through old fan mail to assure ourselves that someone thinks we're funny.

3:05 p.m. Realize that fan mail was probably written by our mother.

3:13 p.m. MySpace.

3:14 p.m. MySpace again.

3:31 p.m. Walk to corner store to buy mid-afternoon Dr. Pepper Berries & Cream Soda.

3:31 p.m. Realize that wallet is empty. Try to put Dr. Pepper on credit card.

3:31 p.m. Credit card is rejected.

3:31 p.m. Realize that deciding to make a living as a writer was a terrible, terrible mistake.

3:32 p.m. Walk back to office. Step in dog poop. Consider writing column about stepping in dog poop, because poop is a funny word.

3:40 p.m. Begin writing column about stepping in dog poop.

3:42 p.m. Realize that no one wants to read a column about stepping in dog poop.

3:59 p.m. Offer coworker $5 to write column for us.

3:59 p.m. Ask if coworker accepts credit cards.

4:00 p.m. Stare at screen. Pick nose when no one is looking.

4:03 p.m. Make up excuses to walk past the desk of new office temp.

4:04 p.m. Walk past temp to get coffee.

4:05 p.m. Walk past temp to get box of pens.

4:06 p.m. Walk past temp to get second box of pens.

4:06 p.m. Finally make eye contact with temp, receive mixed look of irritation and disgust.

4:07 p.m. Feel remorse for stalking temp when married. Chalk it up as fodder for future story and feel better.

4:12 p.m. Count the number of tiles in ceiling.

4:13 p.m. Try to write a haiku about Dr. Pepper Berries & Cream Soda.

4:14 p.m. Try to balance pen on bridge of nose.

4:15 p.m. Decide to pick the name of our firstborn at random from the dictionary. Wonder how long it will take for our wife to warm up to "Presto-Chango Royer."

4:16 p.m. Try to weigh our head on the postage meter scale. Get caught in the act by sales manager.

4:17 p.m. Get e-mail from high school student who wants to "shadow" us for a day at work. Panic. Panic. Panic. Delete e-mail.

4:23 p.m. MySpace.

4:24 p.m. Snap into a Slim Jim.

4:25 p.m. See how long we can hold our breath.

4:27 p.m. Snap into another Slim Jim.

4:30 p.m. Decide to torture coworker with a series of pranks for April Fool's Day column. Give him fake phone message from "Mr. Lyon" with the telephone number for the Philadelphia Zoo.

4:39 p.m. Decide we can't think of another prank. Abort April Fool's Day column.

4:44 p.m. Contemplate writing column about deadly combination of coffee and Slim Jims. Run to bathroom.

4:54 p.m. Decide it's too close to end of the day to start new column. MySpace.

And that, more or less, is how we spend our days here in the office, except for the four or five hours each month when we actually do some work. By "do some work," of course, we mean "surf the internet." By which we mean "stare at pictures of Scarlett Johansson." On MySpace.

We've had a nice time giving you an inside look at the life of Team Last Call. We feel very close to you now. But if you'll excuse us, we've got to get going. After all, our "friend requests" aren't going to accept themselves.