i keep telling all you kids you can be anything you want.
where does he even get his shirts?
guy at work cut out this picture and wrote next to it
cheezburga
cheezburga
cheezburga.
people laughed and pointed.
mastermind.
went down to the first floor today to say hello to the fellas.
shook everyones hands, sat down on a chair, shot the shit.
after about fifteen minutes, some curly haired kid shows up and asks, wheres the chair that needs to be fixed?
guy named tom says, the one tony’s sitting on, the one with the sign that says broken, do not sit.
everyone got a pretty good laugh off that one.
i find myself procrastinating the silliest things.
different eighteen year old girl, jealous of the first one wrote me a very interesting email asking what she has to do to be my favorite.
i said, convince me that going out with you will be better for you and i than if, say, i just stayed at home and watched regis on tivo.
she wrote one simple sentence that convinced me.
one word, actually.
this is while im bald, people of the world.
not even bald, sickly looking.
my hair is growing in monkish. horseshoe first, then the top.
i look nearly as old as i am.
but the girls dont care. hardly any of them do. not everybody has to like you. a dozen’ll do.
jeanine picked me up after work and we sped down wilshire on our way to midnight tacos with the top down. she ordered in spanish, i had to give up after pollo burrito.
we watched that dumbass married by america and both ate every bit of our gigantic three dollar burritos, and i sat back in the couch and she stepped outside for a smoke.
and when she came back she walked over to my computer and on the instant messenger screen it simply said
satiable