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  • Women of the Day 02/18/07

    A great deal on my 'mind' of late. Relearning how to drive, learning how to pull chicks, and learning my new gig are burning up all of my free time. Okay, I don't much care about the new job, but still. AND, the shapely young adorable I'd been feuding with (because I refuse to supplicate to anyfuckingone anyfuckingmore and she's coming from a place of entitlement wherefore EVERY guy she's ever known has kissed her aerobicized ass) has Gone from telling me she won't even say good morning to me because she doesn't speak to folks she doesn't like to leaning over my shoulder Friday afternoon to assist me in operating the outdated computer system we're forced to operate at work. Fuck yeah, she's got some sort of agenda. Now, I just have to figure out what it is.  Or not. Whatever. Not really my crisis, as I simply wish to (and, at some point, will)  bang her, not steal her from her current and become her new BF. Although I did blush a little when she guessed that I'm running 5 GF's of my own and called me Trouble. What can I say? I'm all about congruence and personal authority now. Well, that, and the fact that only a few of the new folks I interact with are at all familiar with the old me. That certainly doesn't hurt, either.

    And I can't figure out why the Yellow Fever with the boomin' ass what once pulled a knife on me keeps saying Hi to me each time I see her. I am, after all, merely a simple country boy. I have, however, come up with what I feel is a solid BF Destroyer for use with those what know the sordid tale of the time I got my goofy ass, you know, married at the end of a drunken ONS in Las Vegas (and yes, I've been crying a little this whole weekend; what with the NBA Allstar Game being there and all). But that's for another day.

    Anyway, the list:

     

    1) Brooklyn Decker (all in all, I'd rather be in Brooklyn. why, yes, I really AM that transparent. check her out at SI.com.)

     

    2) Demi Moore (because The Seventh Sign, a long-time guilty pleasure, was on TV last night when I got home from wherever it is that I spent Friday night.)

     

    3) Pandora (I'm all about the box, fucking sue me. and, since she kinda was, too, here she be.)

     

    4) the kinda fly chick with the piercings and the perky little breastesses what served me at the DMV the other day when i went to renew my licence plates

     

    5) Deanne (the first local woman I ever met from the online dating I've become Addicted to, she introduced me to The Power of Now and enabled me to see that I really do have something to offer the womenfolks. always keep this phrase in mind: 'I'm irresistable, she's gonna love me.')

     

    100+ e-mails to catch up on before tonight's NBA Allstar Game. Enjoy your Sunday, y'all. Remember that 66% of all new marriages end in divorce and friends don't let friends get married.

     

     

  • R.I.P. Anna Nicole

    Fuck yeah, I used to drop copious loads over her. Before she gained all the weight and lost all the brain cells. Those of y'all out there in the ether in my age group did so also. It's okay, you can admit it. Other than me, we're all grownups hereabouts. Hmmm...I wonder if my VHS copy of her Playmate of the Year video is worth anything on Ebay.

    That there is my version of 'when life gives you lemons...throw them at someone; or, you know, make lemonade and shit.'' Like it? Who cares? And yes, I tried, to no avail, to take me some bereavement leave over this tragedy. Especially after the hot IR chick I'm feuding with got to leave early 2 days in a row upon the death of her fucking dog. Nope, nothing against her dog, as I kinda prefer dogs to, you know, people. I'm just saying.

    We have 3 women in management that have tight frames. One of them is attractive. On the outside. When I first saw the photo of her and her chode on her desk, I assumed he had tight Game; she's WAY out his league on looks. Then I got to know her and it's like how did she ever land anyfucking body? Oh, don't get me wrong, I'll still spitefuck her (I've already gotten her to the point where she's thinking and not feeling AND made friends with her cockblock-type friend), but I'll feel a little bit dirty afterwards. And, not the good kind, neither.

    The highlight of my workweek was making her Cry...by saying hello. In a cheery and polite fashion. That's just how I roll. And, despite telling me she doesn't like me (aw, tragic, I'm crying a little on the inside), she's already asked if I'm married. To which I replied with my beloved one night stand in Las Vegas-type marriage tale. Then she asked if I have a GF. Several. Then she called me a whore (dips head shyly, scuffs foot, blushes a little. I've also been called a slut, evil, a weirdo and really mean this past week. To which I always respond: yeah, and? I really enjoy getting to establish the new, uber, me with new folks.

     

    I'm quite excited about tonight's Grammy Awards. Isn't Kelly Clarkson performing Because of You? Last year? The fuck? Never mind, then. Don't care. Saw some of the nominees and was, shall we say, stupefied by them. As long as Buckcherry's classic power ballad Crazy Bitch wins, I'm good.

    Fuck that. I'm spectacular. Ask your mom.

     

    Why did Cinderella require a sequel? Not really feeling it, my ownself.

     

    During my daily commute, I recently noticed a sign advertising a walk-in spinal trauma clinic. Umm, doesn't spinal trauma usually involve some impairment in the, you know, WALKING? Forgive me, I missed that day in medical school.

     

    Happy Black History Month, y'all. In honor of this sacred event, go out and kill whitey. Oh, wait, no, that doesn't sound right. I'M white, aren't I? Never mind, false alarm. In fact, forgot I mentioned it at all.

     

    I'm quite saddened by the fact that watching dead porn stars do their thing back when they were still, you know, alive gets me hard. Like steel.

    I'm also saddened by the fact that the best single ticket I could get for the Chris Isaak concert a mere 5 minutes walk from the Manor this coming May was Row fucking R!!! on the floor. So no, I won't be attending. Sigh. He does put on an excellent show, though.

     

    The new Fall Out Boy disc, Infinity on High, was well worth the wait. Okay, I downloaded it maybe 3 weeks ago, but I still purchased it in tangible form this past week. Which meant I could download for free a live EP. Check it out. Or I'll, to coin a phrase, have you fucking executed. And, catch their new live performance on AOL (link on lower, I don't know, right? or is it left? whatever).

    Song of the Day: FOB- Thnks Fr Th Mmrs.

     

    Nickname of the Day: Iggy Hop. If you've seen Philadelphia 76'ers star Andre Iguodala's game, you'll know why.

    Name of the Day: Cappie Pondexter. Apparently some sort of WNBA player.

    Other NBA thoughts:

    - Ladies and gentlemen, we have a Darko Milicic sighting. I watched some of the New Jersey/Orlando tilt last night (loving the NBA Channel), and he's developed a nice low-post game. Now, if he keeps getting the PT, who knows?

    - Watching the Phoenix/Atlanta game Friday night, I thought it was pretty Cool how excited the Hawks bench got whenever the players on the floor made a good play. Especially after some of Josh Smith's dunks in traffic.

    - Did anyone else see Dwight Howard's last second alley-oop against San Antonio? WOW. Yeah, that about sums it up.

    - John Amaechi. Yeah, I fucked him.

     

    I watched Aquamarine last night. There's just something about hot teenage girls (one of whom's a mermaid) professing their love for each other that just resonates with me. What with me being a hopeless romantic and all.

    And it had the vivacious Arielle Kebbel to boot. What more can one ask?

     

    Corporate drone-ism's proceeding. The CEO of the company, who remembers me from when I was underpaid menial labor, whilst on a tour of our little store (complete with roving bands of executive-type hooligans) on Friday; has decided that he'd like to spend a day hanging out with me and learning how to operate the fancy new technology that I'm also learning how to operate. It's nice to know that I make a lasting impression, but the last thing I need is this fucking guy cramping my style. Time to update that resume. Or at least formulate one.

    And yes, I'm totally going to prank him. Wouldn't you? Perhaps something along the lines of ''OMG, you've just erased our entire inventory and we're going to have to recount every single piece of merchandise in the entire store by hand'', complete with stricken/ashen-faced look. Or whatever happens to pop into my pretty little head.

     

    Since the weather outside's kind of frightful, if you could be anywhere in the world right now, doing anything, where would you be? What would you be doing?

    Loving the Neurolinguistic Programming. Try it and see. When she answers, paraphrase and add. Be descriptive (all 5 senses). Anchor warm and happy thoughts to thoughts of you.

    Or not. Whatever. Peace.

  • This past week...

    - I (Song of the Day: Carlene Carter-) Fell in Love. Dramatic pause. With Josie Maran's PERFECT little breastesses. Nope, it's not just smit. THIS one's for real. Yes, I realize that I've said this before.

     

    - I watched porn with the geophysicist and, yes, she blew me whilst we watched Katie Gold (love me some Katie Gold; oh those nipples and aureolae!) suck off some lucky chode. If Only said professional (who can apparently sign my still to be acquired passport; always thinking, me) what I'm spending time with were but a premium, because she's extremely pliable. And insatiable to boot. Not to mention experimental to the nth power.

     

    - I developed a moderate man Crush on Utah Jazz forward Paul Millsap (sadly, I was too late on the adding him in any of my pools when Carlos Boozer got injured tip) and was pleased to discover that he'll be participating in the Rookie/Sophomore tilt at this month's NBA All Star festivities in fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada. He gets my pre-vote for game MVP. Also happy that my new fave player, Phoenix Suns' forward Shawn Marion, who attended UNLV (if you've never visited, you're missing out), will be playing in the big game.

     

    - I got into a car accident. Nope, I wasn't driving, not even my (factory recalled due to fuel emission issues, must make service appointment) car. Forced into going off-site this past Thursday for a team-building (read: complete waste of fucking time; 3 folks competing to out-beta each other by attempting to be alpha, everybody else, including me, pretty much keeping themselves to themselves) exercise the day of a blizzard (my very first winter driving other than that of 1989/90), I was asked to drive myself and 3 other folks. I declined as 2 of said folks were from out of town and had their cab fares expensed. Add it all up and it spells DUH!, I ain't driving.

    So, we're in the taxi and this fucking guy takes a corner that I've skidded on in icy conditions at maybe 10 km/h at around 60. Naturally, he loses control, and we go careening straight towards a rather large concrete embankment that divides the local LRT line from traffic. The whole time, I'm thinking (because that's just how I roll) ''damn, I'm glad I'm not driving." Fortuitously, our intrepid guide (love me some sarcasm, expect to see more of it) managed to steer out of the skid and drive up onto a concrete median instead. Good Times. My shoulder's still bothering me, fucking seat belts!

    Anyhoo, we arrive Alive, and it's 3 hours of blah blah blah and wonk wonk wonk. And I have to stand up and introduce myself, which I fucking HATE. And we're all asked to state what superpower we'd choose if we could have any of them. Now, since I've been using this one online, rather than merely ask a woman what her fave color happens to be; I had an answer ready. Yeah, I fucking CARE what the best, work related-type answer might be. I'd totally choose the ability to cloud women's minds (a la The Shadow; good fucking movie, by the way). For obvious reasons. No coffee. The food platters sucked. No shapely young adorables to charm. Waste of an afternoon. Unthrilled.

     

    - I finally watched Keys to the V.I.P. on the Comedy Network. Will peruse it again. Willing to learn something about Pickup from anyone/anything I can. Why wouldn't I? Why wouldn't you?

     

    - I began my new life as a soulless corporate drone. Working for a salary rather than hourly wages fucking sucks. Which is what I like to laughingly refer to as applying my vocabulary. I've definitely noticed a barrier between regular folk (amongst whom I still count myself) and those who are corporate. Nope, I'll never get used to being a suit. Thankfully. I was pleasantly surprised when a shapely young (I'm guessing 20ish) adorable-type cashier initiated both convo and kino with me on Tuesday afternoon whilst we both found ourselves outside smoking during a windstorm. Jessica. Cute. A little offbeat. Definitely fuckable. Didn't follow up as I'm not sure if corporate folk are permitted to start picking off staff. Note to self: find out the guidelines (NOTHING'S written in stone for the new me) with regard to cutting a swath through the cashier pool at the store. Spoke to her again the next day. Will see what develops. If nothing, that's Cool, too. I've already made her smile and laugh by telling her of my exploits inventorying makeup and such the previous day. As you can tell though, my storytelling skills need some work.

     

    - I learned from a new acquaintance that the womenfolks (okay, damn near ALL folks, but who's counting?) tend to misread me as this big scary, unapproachable guy. Until they actually speak with me. However, I need to work on encouraging them to do so. I kinda love not really knowing exactly what I'm capable of.

     

    - I rocked both a magenta shirt and my version of a power tye (one with Yogi, Scooby and Fred), although not on the same day. One baby step on the peacocking front. And yes, naturally, I got some positive responses to my Scooby Doo tye. Again, duh. There's just something so right about being all GQ cover shoot, clothes-wise, and then throwing in the personal touch of an offbeat tye. Well, that, and it wasn't wrinkled.

     

    - I attended a manager's meeting in which I, AGAIN, was forced to stand up and introduce myself. And a collective gasp arose when I informed the masses that I'd been at the same location (as menial labor, read: paid to work out) since 1991, since a) I look so youngish and 2) most of the other folks (the guy what's training me is a decade younger than me) actually ARE so young.

     

    - I went from having a department supervisor (Asian chick, great ass, fuckable face; talks with a lisp...may neg her about how she spits when she talks and call her Sylvester the Cat) whose product orders are in my hands (LOVING the power) that everyone describes as kind of a bitch pull a boxcutter on me (well, okay, she didn't, like, stick it under my throat or anything, but still...this is what I like to refer to as dramatic effect) in the morning to having her rapping with me and being all friendly in the afternoon whilst I was doing some work in her department. All by being the new, uber-me. Song of the Day (Part II): The Smiths- This Charming Man. I also managed to use the ''it's all animal magnetism'' routine on a chick I've no interest (unless she has hot friends, of course, networking fucking ROCKS!) in whatsoever (practice, practice, everywhere practice) when she accidentally sent a bottle rolling towards me. Roughly 20 feet.

     

    - I had 2 other women ask me for my e-mail address. What can I say, I type real goodly. Flowering what do you call it? Oh yeah, words. Yes, I still need to work on transitioning my tight online game into the real world, wherefore I sometimes find myself at a loss for words. And the occasional difficulty in opening.

    But knowing one's sticking points is the first step towards solving them, n'est pas?

     

    - I effectively (even though I was crying a little on the inside, I managed to be congruent) negged the HB IR chick I now kinda sorta share an office with. For some reason, she's been all stuck up towards me right from 21 Jump Street. Sorry, Charlie, I've spent way too much time in the past disrespecting my ownself; I'm SO not gonna let some fucking skirt do it to me now. She made a remark about my beloved Scooby Doo tye. I replied that anyone who had a picture of herself with her brother on her desk was the last person that ought to be making fun of anybody and she should maybe just shush. Yes, a little more cocky than funny (another sticking point), but I did smile when I said it. I was informed that it's her fiance (next step: how long have you and Mr. Wonderful been together? cheat on him yet? want to? but one crisis at a time), which I suspected; this guy must have WICKED Game, because he looks like a total chode and she has a TIGHT little frame. Great rack, too. More on that later. I should've asked, when she asked why'd she be holding hands with her brother, just why she was holding hands with her brother. Best I could come up with was that for all I knew, she was from Newfoundland, wherefore the dating pool is kinda small. This got a laugh at her expense from the room.

    She went into the whole ''how can you talk to me like that?'' routine and asked if I even knew her name. It's Katherine. Another fucking K! I informed her that because of this she was trouble (when my new co-worker backed me on this, he made a friend for life) and we could never be friends, called her princess, and said that I would, however, be friends with the discount (always make friends with the cockblock) in the room. At this point, she began brandishing a pair of scissors and I was told by the other 2 folks in the room that danger lay ahead. Naturally, I replied that she'd be all right as long as she didn't run with said scissors. At this point, she stormed out of the office in a huff. Naturally, I said ''yeah, you'd BETTER leave." I was reminded by my coworker that we're guests in her space and then she returned to the room and told me the same thing. To both folks, I replied that that was, in fact, what made it funny. And yes, I've referred to her as secretary. I'll stick my tongue UP an HB's shapely little ass, but no longer will I kiss it. Well, okay, maybe under more Naked circumstances, but no more supplicating. If an HB wants to act like a brat, she'll be treated like one. Yes, I'll also find a way to work the phrase '' your BF may put up with that, but he obviously doesn't spank you enough. I won't and I will,'' into casual conversation. Without incurring any misconduct bullshit-type charges. Not used to dealing with HB coworkers after all that time spent laboring with the dregs (yes, myself included) of humanity. Not really sure of all the rules but aware that there are some and fully committed to breaking them. Now I've established personal authority and push with her. Next week, I'll mix in some pull (for those of you familiar with The Art of Approaching). I will fuck her. All women cheat. Yes, YOUR GF, too. Accept it. I have. And you fucking KNOW that she has.

    Addendum: At said manager's meeting, I was seated beside Katherine's friend. So, she leans across the conference table to speak to said friend, giving me a quite jerkworthy view of her impressive cleavage. Oh, I 'm sure she had NO idea what she was doing. They never do, after all. And don't even get me started on the way she licked the icing off her cupcake (they served desserts, all of which seemed to end up placed in front of me for some reason; nope, didn't partake, watching my girlish figure, at said meeting) when I just happened to be looking. Okay, I find her attractive, but I'll never let HER know that. A hard lesson, but an invaluable one.

     

    All right, I'm out. Yeah, I know, Saturday night. I'm supposed to be out and about, blah blah blah. I'll put it like this: basketball on all night (I'm only listening to the Suns/Jazz game whilst typing this little diatribe). Oh yeah, and the geophysicist has called and offered to deliver a piping hot order of (happiness is a warm) pussy to Stately Deranged Manor in a couple of hours. Ish. So I'm good. Things are back to where they belong. Once one has a fallback girl, things just, you know, fall into place. Yes, I'll continue working on building that skill set, so's I can bang me some premiums. No complacency here. Enjoy your weekend, y'all. Rumor has it that there's some sort of sporting contest going on tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps I'll check it out. Go Bears!