Old Personal News
(starting with the week ending 7-17-05)
The Week Ending Sunday August 7th, 2005
Sunday 7-31 had me staying up late with Depeche Mode's Exciter; trying to update webs, check e-mails, and find certain sites. Sleep is so hard to find--I'm doing afternoon naps right now. I need to be working out somewhere. Mumble. Up
at the lovely 6 am hour Monday for work. Fun. It ws difficult to get out of the shower. Spilling coffee, no lunch, and being 2 minutes early was still not enough to keep from being hounded. Whatever. They want us to have goals; fine. I want a gym membership and high-speed internet. So I'm making my hundreds of calls and getting hung up on...and then I got a free sale given to me. Wow. Just show up, baby. Still a very slow day. And I'm tired, and my back hurts. Planning phone calls for after work--I only have an hour until 5 pm. Gotta go to the bank and deposit (hopefully) enough $ for rent, too. Cool; it's enough. Home to eat a burrito and get on the phone. BBB closes at 4; great. Gym memberships are pricey; the Y is the most. Pretty soon I'm nodding on the couch; that's another nap for me. Up at 8, and now it's laundry time. Yes, and 1 more burrito. Gotta go pull laundry now. Being productive feels good. Perhaps my first fitness move should be to join up for the fitness/sauna thing here in the apartments--I can cancel that whenever. Big C wants to go play pinball 2maro; sounds like a plan. Static Girlfriend is watching that 6th Sense movie on tv--stretched to 3 hours with an hour of commercials; look who's dumbed down now. That kid pisses me off anyway. Grrr. After the movie, there would be short snuggle; wow. Then in my shower, the drain starts shooting sludge up at me in Amityville X-Files fashion. I hadn't done the naked plunger dance in awhile; did it at midnight tonight. Woo. It's almost too much fun here; kill me now. So it's after 1 am; I'm saving the good UFO show for my girl 2maro. Time to lay in bed and pretend we can sleep; the fun continues. Pretending to be asleep now...Up
in a daze for Tuesday morn. I didn't, I did; I didn't, I did; can't seem to determine if I took a shower this morning--I probably was scared of the X-Files tub. Strong coffee, double-kissing on my girl, and I'm outta here. Job #5 chaos yet again; I dressed up to go be working for a not-very-well organized place. It's a wonder I get out of bed for this shit. No sales; no hope, nothing. I'm willing to go to bat for these guys, and make some sales, but they've got us doing this crumb-fishing. I would call the BBB on break; ALL work-at-home programs are scams (great). Why am I still alive? And I'm tired, too. Did I mention that this is really fun? Yawn. I'm gonna snap soon. Done. Forgot to clock out; bite me. Home. Rent. A free month of the tiny fitness center here. 3 peaches, and we watched the cool UFO show from last night. Wow; best one yet. And I'm nodding. Nap time again; no pinball tonight. Up for ramen in a cup, and I watched House. Static Girl says that our tub is possessed, and not to worry--but that fucker scares me (no kidding). Rescue Me is taping right now. I'm reading want-ads. I'll go fucking work at Subway before it's all over. Well, maybe. Jeez. First I'll go watch Rescue Me, then stay up till 2 am...found the work-at-home place on the BBB's website--they have lots of complaints filed (and a phone # to call), conspiracy surf, then I'd crash hard. I could, COULD, get really productive 2maro. We'll see. Right. So I'm up
at 6 am Wednesday, screaming softly through the back pain with watery eyes, longing for any, ANY kind of pain pills. Dammit. Fuck. Shit. Thank God the shower helps a little, and I need to start working out today. Ouch. To work; if you can call it that. I'm singing Rage's "Renegades of Funk" all day--that was kind of nice. No big boss today, and then 4 employees left because they contracted some mad cow/bird flu sickness AT work. Great. We'll be quarantined in haz mat suits by lunch; the smell of death's upon us. Maybe they all just wanted to go get high, because people stopped getting sick, and then the smell went away by like, 8 am. Good; I don't mind dying, but I don't want to die here. I'll tell you where I'd like to die later; there are 3 commentaries brewing: turning 40, "work", and suicide. Too broke to smoke, too drained to drink; I can't even fund a bar-run or a bag with a plasma donation anymore. I'll be huffing nail polish remover soon (again). Back pain and job frustration will make you think up some scary shit, dude.
Lunch--and we're all still alive. They opened a window to ventilate the place; one fucking window--did they think we would, or would NOT notice? Work-at-home has an auto-answering machine--very fishy. That's out. After lunch; apparently we're all still alive (hey, what about the folks who left?). Shhh; they shut the window. Maybe I could snort some rubber cement. "Looks like I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue." Yeah, you probably think I'm kidding. That's good; keep thinking that. La la la; no, there's no rubber cement here. Just joking. Wheee. Bite me; like I can sell anything to a pissed off do-not-call list while they're slam-hanging up on me. Click. I'm going to Subway after work; if I make it that far. And back to that cool record store. Maybe I'll call Mortgage fuck again, too. I'm a busy, angry, sober, broke, former drunk here. Dammit. Fuck. Shit. Did I mention my back hurts? I hope God's entertained by all of this; somebody should be. Are we done? Good. I am SO outta here. To the CD shop; offered to sell my soul to work there. To Subway; no chance--they're all LESS than half my age. Well that's a new one. No I don't feel OLD or anything. Checked in at the little furniture place, too; she could still be a client. It's 4:30. Home to hug on the best part of my pathetic life. She still likes me; no, I don't know why. Phone calls; no radio yet, but maybe soon. Paid radio guy says I could sell some advertising for them--that's a step closer to being on the air. And my insurance debit might not bounce (woo-hoo). No high speed internet yet, but we learned more about it. And I'm not too tired--no nap needed today. Gonna go check out our little apartment fitness center while ricey deluxe is cooking. Not bad; I can do this. Back to finish dinner; burritos for me, and a pile for my girl. Tv is so bad that it became snuggle time on my first suggestion (dumbed down tv has a plus side?). Look at me; cheating death at work, being productive, stepping toward the radio, initiating sex, and now I'm going to spend the rest of the evening reading my money book. C called somewhere in here and suggested pinball; nice offer, but it's not gonna happen today. Then I washed dishes, and tucked my girl in. Wow; who is this guy? I have more places to call now. And I need to get back to the library, too. Staying busy can help depression--I'm living proof. It's 11 pm now; this was a pretty full day here. My back still hurt bad when I went to bed. Sleep. Up
NOT quite up at 6 am Thursday. This is a new level of back pain--thank you. I will be calling in to work at 7, and going back to bed. This is absolutely outrageous; I will need to see a Dr. for sure now. Why is this happening to me? Hopefully I slept on it wrong--I won't be dealing with this shit on a daily basis. Naps and such all day; girlfriend is pissed. Oh well; she doesn't have any idea what this is like--plus, she wouldn't be happy if she wasn't upset about something. Got a couple of phone interviews for potential help; read some more in my money book. Time is supposed to drag when life sucks--why is this day flying by? At 9pm, big C called. I was going to decline--but pinball seemed like a great idea all of a sudden--and he has a pain pill for me! So we're cruising to Springtuckey to do so-so at pinball...but the final game had me busting 3.190 billion on Twilight Zone; kick ass! And C didn't have to, but he followed me home. Cool. Now...I don't know. I need to go to work, and do many errands 2maro. We shall see. My back doesn't hurt quite so much now. Sleep. Up
Friday after a weird dream where all my clocks were 12 hours off. Apparently I reset my alarm to go off at 5:45 PM--which is just supid on my part. So I LOOKED at the clock at 6:30 am--no alarms. I have to get up (!), and get out of here in 15 minutes. As unlikely as it was, I pulled it off. Medium back pain; this is much better than yesterday. I'm not dancing or anything, but I can walk and limp. So I'm limping off to work--no time to leave my girl any kind of note; I'll call the glass lady on my first break. No coffee till 8 am; little boss says he knows of some cheap/free Dr.'s. I did call glass lady; she had already talked to my girl--and there'll be new glass in my girl's car when I get home. There's some kind of stuff brewing at work; hmmm. Whatever. I'm witty; I'm charming. I'm...hungry. I'm good on the phone sometimes. My hot mustard sandwich--on moldy bread! After lunch; it looks like a couple of people that were here before lunch are gone now. So? That's not real drama. Finger-licking good for me. The sales day sucks; I couldn't care less. Hey; they're the ones who have me calling these saturated losers. Look at the concern on my face. There's alternative drama here anyway. I'm talking myself into, and out of, being all productive after work. My wake-up was messed up--I know I should workout. Waaa; I can be so wimpy sometimes. So it gets later on in the day. After our last break, people start running in and out of the discipline room. I wanna go; spank me you frisky bitch! I never to get to have any fun. So; all the drama finally climaxes. Yawn. Some extra large manager girl is being demoted back to a phone rep. That's it; that's the drama? She's all crying and shit. Finally, the 'opinion poll' comes around to me; what do I think about some multi-year veteran being demoted? Remember the rule; don't fucking ask for my opinion unless you really want it. I say 'She's still employed here; if there was a problem--then she would be gone. There's no problem here; she still gets to sell.' Then we're changing desks. Sure. Give me my check already. I'm off to the bank. Then I'm doing some shopping. Home to see my girl. Talking to her, I realized that I had to go do at least a 2-stage workout. Right. So I did. The fitness center is workable; it needs a little TLC, but then again don't we all? My arms are going to hurt 2maro, and hopefully my back won't be so bad. Back here to make burritos; I'm on a burrito tear right now. So we're eating yummy burritos and watching the spooky haunted shows--this are what my girlfriend watches now. It's funny when the big wimps cuss. It's going to be late snuggle, but we did it well. Then I'm heading to Wetlands to meet Big C for some pinball. Then we cruise over to Springtuckey for some more Twilight Zone. Good for me; rotten for him. I got Lost in the Zone 2wice, and scored another 2.6 bil game; that's 2 new high scores in 2 days. Ha! At least I bought him a beer. Then we're heading back to our neighborhood poker tourney, where somebody has been talking about my website behind my back--trying to stir up trouble for me. Isn't that cute? I find it amusing when people have to resort to things like this to make their own lives interesting. Many other paragraphs that were right here, just a few seconds ago, have been disposed of because I don't want to continue this childish display anymore. It's not worth my time. Few things are.
I wound up making $20 Friday night. And I'm heading home to eat everything leftover from burrito dinner, and washing dishes. Crash time. Up
Saturday once early, then I slept in until afternoon. Ha. Now I'm about to glug my 3rd cup of coffee while listening to Crumb. Girlfriend says she'll go with me to the library; my Dad's big box of birthday shit came today; nice. I should call him and tell him about the crash-and-burn that was Battle of the Mom's. In fact, I need to get on it. So I called everybody, but nobody was available. Did I mention a day or 2 ago that my Mom actually sent me a birthday card? Hard to believe, huh? Didn't figure I'd ever hear from her again; color me shocked. Right. So my Mom calls me back! First thing she says to me was about wondering if I'D ever talk to HER again. Wow. SHE'S not the lifelong disappointment here--that's MY job. Anyway, so Mom and I are still talking just fine, apparently. Well cool. Girlfriend's been waiting for 3 hours to go to this library place--she's pissed. My arms hurt. Okay; we're going. So; you wanna know what CD's I rented, right? I got the Ned's Atomic Dustbin, a Chevelle, and Grave Dancer's Union Soul Asylum. Cool. Also got a movie; LA Confidential. Girlfriend snagged some book. We did self-checkout. Nice. Then back home for me to make some strange nachos. Strange in that big O peppers aren't very hot at all. Okay. I will find hot peppers in this town; somewhere. Maybe. So I taped 4 episodes of this show Arrested Development last night; I like Jason Bateman. This show is weird, but funny enough to watch, at least. I was laughing by the 3rd episode. Now it's after 9 pm, and I feel a little anxious. Sure; I could go play poker down the street. But I'm staying here. Nobody pays me enough to pretend like I care about being out in public, so guess what? Well, it's 3 am. Perhaps I should call it a night. Bye.
Up Sunday before noon. It's hot in here, and my arms still hurt. Coffee. I wanted to do work e-mails, but I don't have all the info. I'm looking at trying to do some online work at home; we shall see. Typed for an hour to my FCP while listening to the Chevelle CD I got at the library. Brickyard Nascar today; look at me yawning. Okay; what's next? Web updates? It's been awhile since I really pissed some people off--well, outside of that chat room last night. I had 4 fat girls all riled up; they were demanding that I hook in my microphone. I was all like 'You cow bitches have microphones for your chat rooms? How desperate for human contact are you?' Oh I was giggling. Adding new "mooooooo" to my e-mails, I am the Overnight Herdmaster. Right. I could do some live riling up right here--maybe I already did. Or am I just bitter? Online cow-tipping awaits...
The Week Ending Sunday July 17th, 2005
Up Monday (convenience store day) 7-11 at 10:30 am. First chore; coffee. Second chore; laundry. Done. I am now, officially "productive" today; so kiss my ass. What a week last week was! Depressed, content, broke; employed, unemployed; suicidal, depressed, back pain, pinball and poker. I guess this is life. Whatever. I'll hang around, but this is a bunch of stupid-assed shit that I did not organize, okay? You've got crazy oil fuckers running the world dry. YOU do. What gets me is that the solutions are right in front of us; I CANNOT be the only person who figured out the motion trials. But there's some sort of perverted bloody car-wreck fantasy in my mind of watching the bubble start to burst. I just want to see some death, baby. You want me to stay alive so bad? Okay, fine; show me some fucking death. Death, crying, pain, and innocents suffering; lots of blood. Panic in the streets. Damn, I'm hungry. So I ate some leftover CastleMac. Then I called a sales job in the paper today--about health care--and foolishly gave them my phone number. Then headed out to get some food stamp paperwork, a haircut, and some groceries. Got my paperwork, got my hair cut a little TOO short--that could be a sunburn in wait, and some good cheap groceries--and a couple of presents for my baby. So? Home to read over my job guide, watch a substitute PTI (um, where is the begging?); and YES; we begged for sex. Later. She's watching Goodwill Hunting on A+E right now, and asking me if it's okay for her to eat chocolate and cookies for dinner (my presents). I told her that she could do any damn thing she wanted to, because she is my girlfriend; the cookies and chocolate are ALL hers. I figured out that part of my past depression on Thursday was partly due to the lack of snuggle Wednesday; and we determined this on a wonderful and refreshing phone chat with my FCP--who was a little pissed off after being left out of the loop for 3 strange days. She has her own drama, yes, but she kind of got me back online by bitching at me a little. I deserve it. Hey look at me; I'm not so depressed anymore. Short-haired snuggle, might get some food stampus, some new work, another impending phone interview, a chance at radio (keep dreaming, doofus), watched the Garbage special on that Music Choice channel tonight, and the Monday UFO show was all about Bob (Lazar). Cool. Wound up being excited and stayed up way too late Monday night; more conspiracy shit online. Snagged a couple of hours of sleep before getting up
at 6 am Tuesday for the first day at the new job. Training...but I like this place. I can do this. Training went fairly well, too. I was tired, but hung in there. After work, I headed for the place to get some stampus. Pissy lady wouldn't give me an afternoon interview, so I will have to miss some work time this Monday. Great. Back out to Gus, and somebody has parked a little car that blocks me in. Fucker. So I had to open the car and move it out of my way; why would somebody park in the middle of the aisle like that? I should have pillaged the car for any valuables--but did not. Home and tired. Hugged on my incredible girlfriend--she still likes me. I would eat a little food, and then take a 3-hour nap. This won't help much to regulate my 1st shift schedule, but it felt good. Back up at 9 to fry some hash browns, wash dishes and watch a little APL with my girl. Now it's almost 11, and I'm not tired. Stayed online until after midnight, call me Captain Conspiracy, and then decided to go back and watch the taped Rescue Me. Good episode; that show is still on the edge. I would get to sleep by 3 am, so there was another nap before I got up
for work Wednesday. There's not so much extra snooze time in getting to work by 7 am. We learned that just 1 extra snooze means NO coffee from home. Bummer. On the way to work I heard some Buddy Guy on an obscure station here--too bad the DJ didn't sound like he knew what was going on. But I liked the music! Made it to work 3 minutes early; woo-hoo. And I would make up for missing coffee by drinking lots of theirs, baby. To the phones! Oh and I am so much more comfortable at it today. In fact, I was in great shape. There's music here, and people get all riled up; I like this place. I never got an actual sale, but I had some fantastic conversations that laid good groundwork. I got talked up by supervisors, too (Sure; but what the hell do they know?). I felt pretty good about the whole deal. I also set up an appointment to meet with the psychologists that help overwhelmed workers. I'm overwhelmed right now; and broke, too. Fuckin' back pain, and eatin' cheap shit food. It's a wonder I'm not still suicidal like I was a couple of weeks ago. I can't even afford to buy any of the new CD's I need to own. Ehhh. So we got off work, and I wasn't too tired or anything. Back into Gus, and we're still on the cool little obscure radio station. A commercial for CD World! Awesome! And then this little guy starts squawking in broken English about shit, and all I could thinkof was...this? This is how they want to repreesent afternoon drive? Fuck. I'm going home to call these cats. And I did. Talked to the program director. Turns out that this is a tiny radio station...connected to the back of a local high school. The DJ's sound like morons because...they're high school kids. This radio station trains teenagers...to be broadcasters. Man; there wasn't no cool shit like this when I was a goofy teen. So; did I ask him if I could work there? What do you think? Hell yes! He wants to meet me. I could work a little blues show for a couple of hours a week, or something like that. Got to do it this Summer; 'coz when the kids come back it's all theirs. There's no money--but I'd be doing it out of love. And it's experience. Look at the look on my face; I'm scamming this already. Had to call my FCP immediately and tell her all about this; she's rooting for me. Why did my computer shut off today; I didn't turn it off? So I cook my girlfriend supreme a delightful 2-course creation of pasta + veggies, started by an avocado appetizer (Read that again, Bozo; wouldn't it be a total of 3 courses?). Okay. It might have been 3 courses. So then it's snuggle time. While doing my shave-prep, 3 missionary girls knocked on the front door. They want to talk religion and get my phone number; thanks, but no. I have my own Dark Angel waiting; thank you. So then I'm kissing on my girl, and promising to never answer the door again. Good snuggle. Yay. Big C wants to go play some pinball after some poker tourney he's in; I might be interested, but girlfriend says if I am late for work 2maro that I will have to move out. Bummer. So maybe I'll stay in. I did. Went and watched some tv, and the taped special about that Montana town that's all messed up; environmentalists vs. gun-toters. Whatever. And I headed for bed soon after midnight. Up
for work Thursday. I have to start setting my alarm earlier; so I can look at it and go 'you've got to be fucking kidding me'. Ha. But I'm up and off; listening to my new favorite radio station. Oh; is it a new college station? No; it's actually a high school station. Ha. Mo morning blues for me. At work, I'm starting to realize the way things really are. Like Employees Wanted Magazine, Register Tape, and Vericomm; all the big good accounts are already taken. We're just spinning wheels as newbies, and looking for the occaisional crumbs. There won't be any commission here either; but, the room is better--with the music and the looseness and all. I don't have an audience, but I don't really want one anyway (this ain't 2003 at MIC, baby). Busting my hump at 3/4 speed for just over $7 an hour; what a crock of shit this big O "job" world is. And my mind just keeps replaying the wrongs of recent past, performed by those who were allowed too much room to wrong me. I won't be making THAT mistake again; thank you. It shouldn't be such a broken record revolving, though. There is something missing, or something being skipped. So, (as always) I spend too much time consumed with my own lack of euphoria--the simple joy of life stuff; where is it? I used to have it in abundance. Don't let me wander too far here; I have a point. I already figured it out--it only took a few minutes, and then it got slammed home hard at the 2 pm break. Details; I had the greatest job in the world; radio DJ. Within a month of losing it, I found the greatest woman in the world; Static Girl. Not too bad of a trade-off; all things considered. But in comparison of just HOW important music is to me, no matter how great the most incredible woman is--I have lost an edge here. It's taking too long; you've already figured it out, right? I need to get back on the radio. It doesn't matter how, or where, or why; I just need to to bring it back. Right. So at the 2 pm break, I'm obsessing over how this charismatic 40 yr. old public speaker has been reduced to crumb-picking in saturated phone-sale seas. I've got to take a walk--or I'm going to snap right fucking here. Out to my buddy Gus (Gus; pretty damn cool 8 years ago, but now starting to fall apart; kind of like...hmmm). Climb up in and turn the radio on--to my new station of course. These kids on the radio; these teenagers--do they even know how lucky...? 'Here comes U2's "Into the Heart"'; and they played it! I bet that I'm the only other person listening who knew that's the transition song between "An Cat Dabh" and "Out of Control" on side 1 of the Boy album. Okay; maybe I'm not--but it was still amazing to hear. True; they missed the ending by a couple of seconds--some dead air keeps you humble, right? But I was impressed, and that's when it hit me; I have to get back there. It's not about money; it's not about pussy, and it never WAS about recognition of ANY kind. No. It was purely selfish; and it was the best selfish that any only child ever could have known. I don't even have any fucking choice--I HAVE to get back there. Static Girl is/was/will continue to be (possibly) the best filler for what is missing in my life, but she ain't what's missing. Talk about clarity; the blinders are off now! I sang "Into the Heart" for the rest of the day at work, which is funny because it's only 3 lines of lyrics--at MOST! Perhaps I have stumbled across a reason to keep living--for now. You all should be very happy. Toward the end of the workday, I almost fell into a $500 sale. Look at the size of THAT crumb! It may still go through; we'll see. Who fucking cares? Right now I have stuff to do. And there will be some pinball tonight--don't even pretend like we don't have stress to release, motherfucker. So I go to the bank, and the Dollar store; then come home to grab and crush hug on my yummy girl. Hey look; my computer shut off again. Maybe Static Girl is doing maintenance on it. Then I made dinner for us, and then I washed dishes; I'm a pretty good boyfriend. Big C calls to check in, and asks if I'd like to play some poker tonight. I do not (but thank you); with or without anybody else, I will be playing some pinball--Into the Heart. He agrees. So my evening plans are in place; it's just about preparation now. And then I'm up here; typing out my magnificent day. Shhh. Don't tell anybody; but I'm starting to feel that superiority creeping back in; now wouldn't that be nice? Maybe YOU don't understand; let me explain. KNOWING that you're better than all the other idiots you have to deal with, knowing--with certainty, that this 'mixing with the masses' bullshit is just a prelude to the real show; THAT'S what used to get me through the day. I've been missing that feeling, too. How the fuck have I gotten along without it? Good question. We'll dive into that well later (double metaphor: tunnelvision). Right now I'm going to yell at a pinball machine, alone. Bye...And yell I would! Gus' engine sputtered a little on the ride to Springtuckey; whatever. Twilight Zone pinball has been worked on; no more right lean, and quicker flippers! Yay. Fun to play, but there would be no high scores tonight. I even slid over and got a round of golf in--on the card. 3 card eagles are always nice. And all of a sudden, big C wants to go to the poker game. It's still early, though. Hmmm. Against all logic; from the desk of "What the hell was I thinking?", I decided to go to the poker game, as well. It's over at J+G's place, outside. It's a nice night, too. This is pretty cool. Already had 4, and then I drank many more beers--hardly caring about any aftermath. I was even up some $ for a little while. Then I slammed out. Oh well. Here's a new one; we followed a cop home--ha! So I'm home after 1, supposedly going to rise at 6 and go to work, ha. But I'm smiling! This is going to be ugly when the alarms go off at 6; wait, we need to reset the alarms for 5:45. Sure. Giggle. Soon enough there are alarms going off, and I'm getting up
at 6:05 am Friday. I don't even remember the first 2 alarms--I was smart to set it all earlier. My head, tummy, back, and throat all hurt. Here's an idea; let's go do a phone sales job. Sir Talkalot. It's a joke, right? No; we don't want to have to move out--so we're going to work. Shit; okay. Mo blues on the way to work. Gus is having some kind of engine trouble--and I am, too. Gus doesn't want to idle; he wants to stay choked--weird. Clocked in with a minute to spare. "We're here at work with the Overnight Guy; it's a different kind of 'dizzy and throbbing' this morning." Working; with a foolish hangover, what the fuck?--I used to do this all the time (dude; aren't you like, 40?). Yeah; old as dirt--you would THINK that I might know better. But I can do this...maybe. Tired. And there I go! The joy of simplistic employment is...well, that it's pretty easy. I'm sitting here, though, knowing that my skills are not being put to use. Hungover, and STILL contemplating wasted time; I AM a role model. Lunch! I made it to lunch? Wow; I would have lost that bet. Okay. At lunch, we went out to talk to Gus. Gus says he feels hungover and hot, too; he asked me for a drink of water. Well that's a major part of the problem right there; he needs water! I am the mechanic. Okay; and maybe I feel a little better, too. I might make it all the way through the day; did anybody have that bet in the pool? (I doubt it.) No sales; but I maintained through an entire working Friday like a trooper half my age. Ha. I'd like to see somebody else pull this shit off. So I'm heading home; Gus didn't mind this ride, and that's good. First thing I want to do is go update computer files--I have a fucking story now! Right. So I get to my desk; why is my computer off again? Flip the switch. This is going to turn into a major "uh-oh"--we still don't have all the details Saturday morning. Static Girl will look at it later. First up, it's Friday dinner time! I fried ricey beany, and added crumbles to the garlic-fest. It fucking rocked (said the hungover chef)! Falling asleep sitting next to my baby on the warped tour, I asked for options. I could easily stay in tonight (said the thirsty drunk), and go to bed now. Nope. Static Honey wants a regular Friday. You got it, babe. So we're getting in gear for it. Yes; good snuggle. And we're done. After a shower, I'm ready to do some typing. My computer shut off again? This can't be good. Called in my personal tech support (my girlfriend), and we're not having good luck here. It's ugly. Big C invites me out to play, twice, because he's super cool. Unfortunately, I'm up here trying to get back my computer; still worried about Gus, too. Partying is not the priority (said the fidgety drunk). She re-installs...everything, and it's all still screwed. No speakers, no monitor, no CD player; oh this absolutely sucks. How will I live like this? We get close, and then shit starts falling apart again. Fuck. All of a sudden (contemplates the drunk), maybe I need to WALK down to the bar. Hmmm. So I leave my girflriend--while she stays and continues to try to fix my computer. Down at the local poker tourney; wow, what a party! 2 full tables, and everybody is happy to see me! Okay. Let's start drinking. Amidst the party people are a couple of loan officers--looking for help! No way! Okay; so I'm collecting phone numbers, and will be going to talk to them on Monday afternoon. Fuck yes! So I blow through my first $20, like always. Asked big C if he would like to go play pinball, and he said 'no thank you'. Okay; no prob. Then I bought back in for less than 10, and turned that into over $40 by closing time! Kick ass! So I played + drank for hours, got another job, and still walked out with more $ than I entered the bar with (said the happy drunk with no computer or ride). Cool. And I tipped everybody, too! Fun times? Big C and B both both won even more than I did, and dealer D made a mint; so we ALL made good money tonight. That's 4 happy drunks getting breakfast; wait, no, I was the only drunk. Still happy, and still breakfast, though. I had a sirloin motherfucking steak; it was cold, but still yummy. So then I'm riding home with big C; I don't want tonight to end--I mean life is really good RIGHT NOW. 2maro is going to; well, suck (said the philosophizing drunk). Allright, let's go have a look. My computer is off, so I figure that it's dead. Gus was sleeping; no reason to wake him up--let's go to bed. I don't want to rise before noon, and I may not want to be alive then. No alarms set, and we're crashing hard. Up
after noon Saturday (that was the plan). Wow; look at that dead computer. Can I go back to bed now? No; we have to clean bathrooms. Right; I remember that. Coffee brewing while we tub scrub and toilet wipe. Back up here to see the note my computer wizard girlfriend left. Apparently I have MOST of a computer to work with--substantially more than I figured to have! Cool. I have to check the CD players; yes, sound! Cool. I'm playing tons of music CD's--too many to list. I'll get online soon enough, but with no anti-virus I'll have to be more careful. No music or porn (awww). Talked to big C; we'll be playing poker later, again. Shit. And my big book of money came--from Bottom Line books. I will pay for it if it nets me over $1000; that's the way it works. I'll play in it 2maro. I'm leaning toward a beany brunch after these 4 cups of coffee. Tried to call my FCP and update all of this on her voice mail--that's not going to work--I'll have to talk to her 2maro. Wow. Should I try to get online now? Sure. Checked some e-mails, and it all looks good enough for now. Getting ready to go to the house poker party. To the store, where I would get a 12-pack of Olympia (I used to LOVE this beer). And the house party was sweet; nice house, and some good eats, too. I drank most of my beer, and shared the rest. Lost all my money, but had a blast. Got in trouble for cussing; fuck. The nice lady who owns the house is in real estate, which is what enables her to have a nice house. Telemarketers don't have nice houses. If I worked in mortgages maybe I could have some money, too. Left the house at close to 1, and went to go play some Twilight Zone pinball. Fun. Kicked out at 2, and big C took me by the Bell for a couple of bedtime burritos. Woo. I would crash around 4 I think. Maybe. Woke up
sweating Sunday, with the sun shining brightly in. It could get up to 95 degrees today; fun. (Unimpressed with my bathtub cleaning--oops) Girlfriend has left a list of chores for me to do; things to be done if I want to continue living here; that's how I saw it. So I did them; ha! On tv, the vaccum I now want is the Singer Lazer Storm; it rocks! Need to go do recycling, and look at my money book. I want: money, food stamps, a better job, and to get back on the radio. Do I ask too much? Shit. So it's going to be a busy week. Battle of the Moms begins on Tuesday; good luck. Talked to my FCP; she's a little annoyed by my constant job-whoring, but she also understands. I have much to do...
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