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  • 17 Days

    Not so much On The Road, but still. So, I'm in the middle of my annual 17 straight days in the workplace whilst my colleague is on Vacation and, since I'm pretty much seeing spots:

     

    When trying to land a Japanese girl, there really is no good time to politely ask if bukkake really means ''I love you''.

    And, of course, because it's me, she lives in my building. At least her first name doesn't start with that accursed K. Naturally, I met her online and later learned we were neighbors.

    Unthrilled with how plentyoffish has gone fascist and dictated I can only view those 14 years younger than me and up. My demographic is the 18-30 group. Since I'm all mature-like and all.

     

    Some of these chicks on CNBC are so fine that I'd even sit and listen if they droned on about mortgaged backed securities. Or their feelings.

    A year and a half ago, I didn't even know what CNBC WAS, let alone watch it.

     

    It bothers me that I daily watch the hot young snatch (most of which is 18+) on the hoof on the Disney Channel. Until I remember that I own Disney stock, so it's research. And I'm making money.

    Of course, it could be worse, I could be one of the old men that has to work with these temptresses. That would be 50 shades of suck.

     

    Don't you just hate when there's that one individual that completely ruins an entire name for you?

     

    I've been reading about Enron of late. Turns out that when I was in Houston last year, I unknowingly passed by the former headquarters. And where was I when the corruption occurred? Apparently I had my pretty little head right square up my ass, because I had no idea what was happening.

    Now...if I ever find myself contending a divorce from that one night stand I married in Vegas that time, I want Andy Fastow to hide my assets.

     

    It's probably not a system that I invested in Nutrisystem because they turn fat chicks into real people. Or my love for Allergan, which guarantees that every time a stripper gets her tits done, a Cougar gets the botox or a midlife crisis gets the hairplugs, I make money.

     

    I've been having trouble remembering my various passwords and where I might've written them down. Turns out that my estimated 3 fully functioning brain cells was waaaaaaay too ambitious.

     

    I want something very bad to happen to Steve Ballmer. I gurandamntee the stock would pop. And then I could sell it.

     

    Whilst in Portland, I walked a mile through the rain despite the fact every step was agony (don't ask) to Popeye's (we don't have them in Alberta) and ordered the left side of the menu. Totally worth it.

    I also met a fellow outside the Rose Garden who had been beaten up after defending gay rights. People suck. Good thing about the gay marriage, though. It's only OK to discriminate against those that are fat, ugly and stupid. If it was good enough for Charles Darwin, it's damn sure good enough for this simple country folk.

     

    Apparently I haven't posed anything since last September. I've been traveling and building me a retirement. I may be back soon.

     

    May Monday be your bitch, y'all.