: i cant come over because im not sure i trust myself.

today someone asked me what my number was.

not my phone number number. the other number.

i havent memorized it, so i have to count every time someone asks.

im not quite sure what im storing in my head that i dont make the extra effort of remembering Anyones phone number including my work number which i give out every day and yet every time i have to look at the phone and read off the peice of tape so i dont get it wrong.

before i started flying chopper one people didnt really think it was that glamourous. at the time it was a test vehicle and nobody wants those things.

especially xbi test vehicles.

so my boss at the time wasnt so sure how he felt about me so he asked me if i was willing to apply for the job on the crew of chopper one and i was all fuck that if im on it i want to fly it and simply out of spite did he let me apply and i did very well on the tests, peculiarilly on the memory tests.

the only explaination my personal physician can tell me is this: i can remember things when theyre either completely vital, or ridiculously trivial.

so do i remember my work telephone number, no.

do i remember my number number, no.

it’s lower than you probably think especially for a man 109.

so then anna kournikova called me. she was in town. i had already taken my second shower of the day, so when she called to say she wanted to come over to say a quick hi i said make it a not so quick hi.

she said she just had to say hi and then bye cuz she wanted to do some quick grocery shopping.

so i said pick me up and we’ll shop together, since i dont have a car, and she said, thats right, ok.

so me and anna were shopping and when we were done i really wanted to spend a little more time with her because shes never in town, but she too was having a hard time resisiting my smoky masculinity.

she said no that she had to return to her condo with her perishables. i said, lets pick up some zancau and eat it at my house where your frozen things can chill in my garage fridge. and she bit her lower lip and called me a temptor. but if you notice she didnt say no.

so as we drove closer to my house and closer to zancau she said, zancau? and i said, only if you eat it with me.

she didnt say anything. then we got right at the intersection and she said zancau? and i said, yes.

and we parked, and we walked in, and i said, whole chicken, garlic paste, and pita?

and she said, none for me, i have to go home.

thats right, she did me like that

at zancau chicken.

katie + jaime + blog blog blog

karisa got me into roast beef sandwiches. nothing that girl likes more than red meat. odd.

wouldnt surprise me at all if that girl told me she was a vampire. once i woke up and saw her sucking the blood from one of my houseguests and i said what are you doing.

she looked up at me and said, nothing. nothing.

she waved her hand infront of my eyes and i fell back asleep.

a peaceful sleep.

and i woke up feeling more refreshed than ever.

jeanine got me into dr. pepper.

laurita got me into diet dr. pepper.

karisa likes being on the busblog. she’ll tell you she doesnt but she lies.

everyone likes being on the busblog.

sometimes thats a hard responsibility to maintain.

sometimes i feel like this thing needs to get transplanted onto something bigger, with smarter design and proofreading and editing, but youre never going to please all the people all the time.

so dont try.

i truly thought that this holiday weekend i would update my links on the left and put pictures up in the archives where missing ones now reside.

i truly thought that i would write some badass shit.

karisa wrote me and told me that she would go to the pictures with me since that other chick wouldnt call me back.

when karisa types chick she types it “chic” like the 70s disco group who did le freak.

chopper one has been getting repaired after it got involved in a little shootout last night. some fuck had an anti tank rocket launcher and hit me.

i have a terrible relationship with gravity. i think i can bounce off it. when im dropping like a rock i pretend like the earth is coming at me and its my job to punch it before it punches me. im not afraid to die, especially in chopper one, mostly cuz i think its impossible.

thats why i get to fly it, btw.

i dont think its impossible like, hey look at me im flying into a mountainside, but im like hey look at me, shoot all you want fuckers, this technology will protect me and if it crashes, the foam will release immediately and surround me and no impact will crush me. which isnt all together true but right now the only thing that hurts is my heel from the seat that smashed into it.

and my wrist from writing to you because my carpal is coming back thanks to this new desk they have me sitting at.

i think i will go to baja fresh for some guacamole.

clipper girl got me into guacamole.

tsar + this friday + 11pm + the garage

chicks dont need to get any skinnier. they need to get smarter. not book smarter either. just smarter smarter.

shit i need to get smarter.

and skinnier.

and a girlfriend.

my buddy at work here says i need to have girlfriend auditions.

everything is girlfriend audtions.

and i dont need to lose any fucking weight.

and neither do you glorious ones of the rockosphere.

ive had skinny girls and not so skinny girls and all shapes and sizes and nationalities and demeanors. and you know what made my heart beat?

not their waist lines, thats for damn sure.

what made it all worth it was what was going on in their minds.

be fun. be flexible. be happy. be sexy. talk. trust. rock. risk.

i know it might not be completely possible for you to forget about your body mass, but it’s not a big deal to us men. and this nonesense about women dressing and looking good for other women is more than gay, its dumb.

dont be dumb.

nothing worse than realizing youre on a date with a dumb girl.

remember that song i want a lover who wont drive me crazy.

body size.

do you know how many girls ive been out with who have issues with their bodies and they looked perfectly fine?

how many who have dudes drooling over them even while im standing right there.

how many whose bodies i would have been very happy to cover in clam chowder and lapped up every morsel?

and these girls never once looked in the mirror while i was around them and said, damn look at that shit!

i was with a young lady the other day who i asked to spin around for me, and she did and i said, damn bitch and she said take a closer look and she spun around again.

and i said you look fine, woman.

and she said, thank you, i know.

and thats the girl i want to be with.

the self proclaimed greatest blog in the world + oish (pictured) + ten gallon hat + i heart kristin