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  • I Don't Know

    Who Keeley Hazell is, but I have her sextape. Quite fond of it, as a matter of fact. Chick smokes her an enthusiastic pole, don't she? Okay, some of the camera work needs some, well, work, and one can't, you know, fast forward and shit; but, still and all, definitely worth clocking a time or 7. I hope it turns out as well for her as Paris Hilton's did for her 'career'. Well, other than the DUI's and the jail time, of course.

    I certainly hope they're keeping Ms. Hilton in solitary. She simply doesn't seem the type to deal well with the average criminal. Although the thought of her being someone's lapdog bitch kinda makes me smile. I'm just like that. Love me some of them Girls in Prison-type romantic comedies. What can I say, I'm a hopeless romantic.

     

    I'm pretty darned upset about Kelly Clarkson cancelling her summer tour, especially if 'summer' includes the September 13th show here in Calgary. I've been anxiously awaiting her finally venturing our way and, yet again, denied. Sigh. Story of my life. I hope everything's all right with her, though. I worry.

    Love the Never Again video. Girl can sure write her a breakup song, can't she?

     

    The geophysicist attempted to poison me Thursday a.m. I awoke at 3, coughing and hacking (the only and bestest way to awaken) and went to her fridge for some cough syrup. Took a big pull and discovered a) that it was expired and 2) that on a relatively empty stomach it would proceed to kick my ass.

    Anyway, I spent Thursday either dry heaving, curled up in the ever-popular fetal position or sleeping. But man did I have me some vivid dreams, though. I could almost taste the colors of the rainbow. Good Times. Although driving home from her crib was definitely an adventure.

     

    Well, off to work. Last night, I had a claim of verbal sexual harassment levelled against me by a burden on humanity because I told HIM to quit being such a sissy. Not a fucking sissy, mind you. Nor little bitch. Nope, not cocksucker, either. Simply a sissy. Boy did he prove me wrong. Color me in my place on this one.

  • Back to Basics

    As of 2200 MST on Tuesday night, I'll be back to my familiar and sorely missed graveyard shifts. At least temporarily. Good Times. And I get to pretty much do as I please at the new store I'll be training at, since the way things are currently being done there simply ain't, you know, getting it done. Well, that and the fact that I'm apparently being fast tracked to management. Yeah, I don't much fathom it, either. In fact, it's kinda fucking baffling.

    And I can feel my nemesis list growing larger daily. Oh well, step on folks on the way up AND the way down.

     

    Yesterday, a hot 17 year old Yellow Fever gave me her number. Yes, David DeAngelo's method of getting the e-mail address (so we can keep in touch) and then ''oh, while you're at it, you may as well give me your number, too'' totally works. No, I had NO idea she's only 17 (until Novemberish). I'm ignoring the implications and merely basking. And yes, I then went and fucked my geophysicist afterwards. Sometimes it's good to be me.

    Did I mention that I'm 35? Or that she still owes me a story?

     

    I'm kinda developing a mancrush on Houston Astros' Centerfielder Hunter Pence. Nope, not ashamed to admit it. Dude's fucking CARRYING me in most of my fantasy baseball pools. And yes, I even have him in my keeper league. If he's still available in your leagues, he's going into Colorado this week. And y'all know what that means.

    Hell, I even dig his porn star name.

     

    I learned (or is it re?) a valuable lesson the other day whilst watching Star Trek. Fuck yeah, the original. Is there any other? Good ol' Scotty was getting some alien dude liquored-up on the single malt, and I realized one of life's simple truths: if someone fails to see your POV; get her drunk.

     

    I'm pretty excited about Kelly Clarkson finally bringing her fine self to Calgary for a concert. Yes, I bought me a ticket, even though the prices were a smidge unreasonable, what with the lack of an opening act of any note and all. Yes, ONE ticket. I don't know anybody like that, wherefore I'd be willing to drop $110 on them. Sadly, the presale sucked. How how how the FUCK can I not be able to find one decent individual seat? Fortuitously, karma was shining on your humble narrator once all seats went on sale, and he was able to score one more to his liking at, like, 4 p.m.

    I like the new single, Never Again, too. New album drops June 26th.

     

    Well, I was up and banging at 3 a.m., so I'm off to shower and then buy me some US dollars, as the exchange rate's damn good of late. Or maybe I won Saturday's lottery. Or not. Whatever. May Monday treat y'all fair and equitably.