By continuing your visit to this site, you accept the use of cookies. These ensure the smooth running of our services. Learn more.

  • Women of the Day 08/31/07

    For 2 reasons:

    a) I forgot to mention that I broke down and let my parents give me a hand-me-down (um, because I don't actually, you know, NEED one) Motorola cellphone. Which I had to have tech support from the geophysicist (yes, kicked to the curb, but that don't mean we can't still be friends) to, essentially, turn on.

    What? It seemed to mean a lot to them that I have one. And yes, cellphones are still the devil. My $10 Pay As You Go account notwithstanding.


    2) Whilst attempting to retrace the steps by which my diary hereabouts was violated, I was thrilled to discover a musician by the name of Christian Manson, also a good Ukrainian boy just like me; who I am currently attempting to add as a friend on My Space. There may even be a link to his site forthcoming. We'll see. By the Way, this was the very firstest My Space Friend Request (Song of the Day: Gym Class Heroes) that I've ever made. In the history of ever.


    Did you ever notice that the chin of the dad on Family Guy totally looks like a nutsack? Just saying.


    I still say that Don't Waste Your Time and not Sober should've been the 2nd single off Kelly Clarkson's (still mourning the cancellation of her summer tour) My December disc.


    Anyway, the list:


    1) Kim Kardashian (sure, she's a fake-ass Paris Hilton, even been on The Simple Life, but she's a bored young socialite who is hot Armenian snatch on the hoof and I happen to be a gold digger; naturally, I'm downloading her sex tape as we speak. reviews as they become available.)


    2) Paris Hilton (sure, she's old news by now, but still. it's been far too long since I've uttered the phrase One Night in Paris. even longer still since I've watched. maybe later. and yes, I still say that Nicky's hotter.)


    3) Katherine (the big breasted, red headed, dread locked, inked up System of a Down fan former coworker I was rapping with again the other day. just like I hadn't been away for 3 long months. again, no there there, what with her first name beginning with a K and all; but still, it's nice to know that I can simply rap with chicks almost like as though they were real people and shit.)


    4) Stacey (the cute product rep whom I've a sneaking suspicion I'll never call; sadly, the statute of limitations on that one has elapsed. too bad about that one, as I managed to simulate some chemistry with her. rapport, too. oh well, c'est la vie, n'est pas?)


    5) Olivia Mojica (nope, STILL never going to watch American Idol. I will, however, watch Hardcore Idol as soon as humanly possible. I believe I've mentioned that I'm a hopeless romantic.)


    Peace. No wooden nickels. All the rest of it.

  • As my summer Vacation draws to a close

    I have discovered, upon reading the side of a city bus, that my poor vision, dizziness, shortness of breath and 2 other things I can't recall are easily accounted for. Apparently, I have suffered some sort of stroke. See, I really AM always the last one to know.


    Yesterday, I finally went and secured my passport photos (before I went skateboarding with Todd Marinovich, that is; I also know Whatever Happened To...Ryan Leaf). The cost was surprisingly reasonable-like. $10 Canadian for the pix and a couple of bills for the fancy camera what I broke. Yeah, like nobody saw THAT one coming.

    P.S. I broke the camera trying to get my soul back out of the shiny little box. But did y'all foresee that part?


    Last weekend, the 'rents took me gambling. And folks wonder whyfore I've turned out the way I have.


    I've developed a loss of hearing in my right ear this chilly a.m. Again. Nope, not terribly thrilled by this turn of events. On the plus side, at least I don't have to listen to folks complaining about their problems. Not that I ever, you know, do or anything, but still.


    Nope, still haven't called the cute product rep whose digits I secured 10 days ago. I have, however, been informed by an online friend that the approach ''I was wondering why you hadn't called me and then I realized that you had given me YOUR number...Oops.'' is verboten. What? I try to learn something from everyfuckingbody I come into contact with. And so should you. Annnnd...I'm still trying to adapt to this whole concept of being able to pull chicks. It's been a long time.

    Became reacquainted with a former coworker at my old store the other day. I'd always suspected that she might be interested (and interesting), but never acted on it. Anyway, I was there whilst waiting to be bled dry by the folks doing my semi-annual checkup on my car and spoke with her briefly. Complete with time constraint, as I was shooting the shit with some of my erstwhile staff, should I ever be fortunate enough to get to return to that location. Let's us just say that the tea leaves portended a favorable outcome if I had opted to escalate.

    That same day, I also discovered the value of social proof. Being seen out in public with a woman kinda tends to make other womenfolks respond more favorably to you. Even if I was scared half out my 'wits' by the nifty little device what lets you know that your table is ready at Red Lobster. And, let me tell you, if you can get IOI's from HB's even after you've burst into hysterical tears...you can totally conquer the world.


    The geophysicist makes roughly forty K more per annum than your humble narrator. Fuck yeah I'm a gold digger. Just me and Anna Nicole. After all, womenfolks have been doing it since the dawn of time (said in a DEEEEEEP manly voice), so Why Not turn the tables?

    We've developed cute little petnames for each other. She refers to me as Inept (socially, mechanically, sexually; why, yes, Virginia, I really AM a one pump chump...why put in the extra effort when I can foresee the outcome? one stroke and I'm sleeping, Good Times). And I refer to her as This Many, as in How Much Doth I Like Her?

    But, I'll admit it, I'm totally using her to get at her Etch-A-Sketch. A boy's gots to have his priorities.


    Well, I'm off to shoot my demo tape for the WWE. Rumor has it they're looking for some new grapplers. Love love LOVE me some grappling. I was watching an episode of Zoey 101 (love love LOVE me some hot future prospects on the Family Channel) last night wherefore young Zoey (Britney's virginal sister Jamie Lynn Spears) joined her high school's wrestling team and none of the boys would wrestle her.


    What is it with these kids today? Wrestle her. Grab her ass. Squeeze her tits. Get to KNOW her.

    And down off the soapbox I go.


    Enjoy your long weekend, y'all. Be good and be safe. Your mother and I worry.

  • Did I Mention That...

    One of my tats symbolizes self-immolation? That's because I kinda tend to set my own shit (metaphorically, not literally, as I've damn near outgrown the stage of development wherefore I like to fling shit at the walls; but I digress) on fire sometimes. But that's just me.

    What? Like YOU'RE perfect. Yes, you, the funny looking one. You know who you are. And your mom dresses you funny, too.

    So it seems that my carefully guarded secret that I like to refer to as the crimes I perpetrate against humanity hereabouts aren't quite as carefully guarded as I'd have liked to believe. My geophysicist Nancy Drewed (Note to Self: download Nancy Drew, as it kinda looks like a hoot; a holler, even) her merry way to perusing whatever it is that I do around these parts. The least she could've done was to click on some ads. Perhaps even use the search bar. Yes, I asked. I believe I may have mentioned my shiny new pragmatism a time or 6.

    Let's just say this proved to be a dealbreaker. Although I do hope that when she returns (what? I'm a total traffic whore, but y'all knew that), she makes frequent and liberal usage of the various means by which I can accrue me some badly needed and well deserved extra disposable income.

    Anyway, I begged. I pleaded. Cajoled, even. But no, it was still to the curb for I. Lying in the gutter, rubbing my face in Broken glass, swearing I could see the stars. So, let's go with Song of the Day: Seether- Broken. Yes, I prefer the with Amy Lee version, too, but I'm in that kind of mood this dark and dreary a.m.

    To briefly, you know, summarize: day 1 of my 9 glorious days of Vacation time was somewhat less than glorious. But this, too, shall pass.

    On the missing the bigger picture tip: I completely forgot about my ex-geophysicist's shiny new Nintendo Wii. I could've totally been playing it whilst she outlined in excruciating detail and at great length all of the many and varied reasons whyfore I was a prick. But not a complete one, as I can't even do that right. I didn't even steal the fucking thing. Yet another in the myriad of reasons why I suck.