Some Ladybugs are Men

My Labor Day weekend wasn't quite what it was cracked up to be.

I spent Friday NOT going to Flagstaff with my friend to see Ween on a free extra ticket that night and coming back the next morning. Instead, I spent it running around town to various doctor's offices to get examined, blood drawn, x-rayed, and EKG'd. By the time I went to pick up my prescription, it wasn't there. I had to drive back to the Doctor's office again and wring the neck of the receptionist so she could call it in again... then I had to go sit around and shove my thumbs up my ass for an hour while they counted out the right number of pills.

The entire process started at 10am and was wrapped up at 5pm. That's like a fucking full-time job... on my day off no less. Fuck.

On Saturday, I went out. Met some friends for dinner at a sports bar, then we headed out to a country bar called The Rusty Spur where my ass kept getting grabbed and rubbed on by 50 year old women. We wandered over to another local dive for a bit before deciding to call it a night.

After we left, we decided to head to a quirky German Pub that was having some sort of "gay night" rather than just heading home. I ended up only drinking about 3 or 4 cocktails altogether between all the bars we visited.

Then we all went to a friend's place to go night swimming. We grabbed some late night mexican grub and poured ourselves one more cocktail and had a swim. The rest of the night was foggy and spotty at best. All I know is that I got home at like 6:30am and had only consumed 4 or 5 alcoholic beverages between 10pm and 6am. Certainly not enough to get blackout drunk. Just the same, I remember almost nothing.

I ended up getting maybe 2 hours of sleep and felt like complete ass, but managed to get some breakfast and pull myself together enough to shower and head in to work. A few hours in to my shift, I start twitching and convulsing. With a few hours left in my shift, a supervisor asks me if I want him to call an ambulance for me. I took a nap in my car to see if I could get myself well enough to drive myself and I couldn't... so I just went ahead and did so anyway. Fuck an ambulance.

I made it home and slept for 12 hours. Still have no idea what the fuck happened. At first I wanted to blame it on being hung over, but I mean, what the fuck. How can I get progressively hung over to the point that I need an ambulance? It wasn't just me - someone else in our party ended up feeling nearly the same - or at least had the same sort of blackout. I've never blacked out in my life and I've drank way more than I did the other night. I can't even hold my alcohol - if I drank enough to get actually "blackout drunk" I would most definitely throw up.

Anyway - Sunday was horrible, and Monday (Labor Day) was just another day at work - except I had to stay later. Oh the joys of a real job.

I think it's possible one of the bartender ladyboys in hotpants dosed my drink, or maybe I ate something I shouldn't have, or maybe I just had a 24hr flu. No idea. It will probably remain a mystery forever. I probably won't drink for awhile... it was never my thing to begin with.

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Taking Stock

I noticed today that I'm closer to 40 than I am to 30 - technically, I'm likely to be closer to the end of my life than the beginning... and I realized it is time to give myself a... uhh... self-evaluation.

So, Max... what are your goals here?

  • Well, I guess my goals are to become successful and happy and to move up in the company.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

  • In 10 years, I'll be 45... that's a scary thought to me. No offense to anyone closer to 45 than I am, but from my perspective it seems like my time here is getting exponentially shorter. Alarmingly, the time I've put in doesn't seem to amount to much. I'm hoping that in 10 years, I'll still feel like I have the world at my feet and choices and opportunities ahead of me. I would like to be living somewhere that makes me happy. I would also like to be doing something that makes me happy. Most of all, I would hope that I have someone I love to share all of this happiness with.

List your top 3 assets.

  • Well, I'm still a fairly decent looking guy and I at least look younger than my age would suggest.
  • I'm talented in many ways - from cooking to art to music to writing... I may not be the best at any of those things, but I'd consider myself to be above average at all of them.
  • I've gained the ability to forgive rather quickly - I screw up a lot, so if I'm to expect people to forgive me, I might as well be quick to forgive as well.

List your top 3 weaknesses.

  • I am overemotional. I overreact sometimes, and I have a thin skin. This is all related to my insecurities and self-loathing.
  • I often assume the worst when people say things to me. This is also related to my insecurities and self-loathing.
  • I am insecure and self-loathing.

How do you rate your performance over the last quarter?

  • The year leading up to the last 3 months was a bit of a disaster, so improvement over that wasn't very difficult to achieve. Just the same, I'd say that I've improved over the previous four quarters. I've managed to lose weight, get back into the dating pool, find steady employment for the first time in 12 years, and take steps towards re-railing my life after the epic derailment that came from my self-sabotage. I can see myself continuing on this path.

In what ways do you think you could improve?

  • I could make better choices in relationships and women.
  • I could work harder to accomplish things - since I now have a great deal less personal time on my hands, I need to place a higher value on what little free time I do have.
  • I need to give more of a shit about other people. I've always been a caring person, but I've been feeling detached lately.
  • I should be more ambitious and goal-oriented.

Can you sum yourself up in three words?

  • meat, cheese, and bread.

That was technically four words.

  • fuck you.
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Sandra’s Bollocks

I guess I've had enough. I know this because there's no more to be had. She told me so. And I'm not talking about Sandra's bollocks.

It's been awhile since I've written anything. Most likely due to me being so busy with work and adjusting to a shitty sleep schedule and being tired all the time. It's helped me to appreciate the weekend, but for some reason I can't stay asleep long enough to be awake for it.

Today is the start of my weekend. Technically I haven't made definite plans. I know what I won't be doing though. I'd like to make the most of it, but I'm not sure if that means just sitting around like a vegetable all day or going out and being social with other human beings.

I haven't talked about my dating life in the last 5 minutes, so I guess now is as good a time as any.

I've been seeing someone who is unavailable. Not just emotionally unavailable, but completely unavailable. I tend to go for that type. I was dating someone a few months ago who made herself completely available. I just wasn't interested. I'm like a cat chasing after a mouse or a bug - I'll keep playing with it until it dies or stops trying to get away. Then I get bored and go take a nap or look for more bugs.

I aspire to be the kind of person who can just find someone normal who is in a normal situation and a stable position in life, and do the whole fall in love and get married bullshit. I've been writing in this particular journal since 2003, and one of my earliest entries was about wanting to get married.

Since then, I've experienced a series of failures. All of which are attributable to me. Either the end was my fault in one way or another, or I simply chose the wrong person to begin with. Perhaps my subconscious isn't willing to cooperate with my desires. Something in me is working against me. It's been a series of self-sabotage and Greek tragedies.

I'm tired of falling for the wrong girl. Do I do it because it's easy? Because there's always a way out? A foot out the door? An escape route? Do I choose women who come with flotation devices in case of a crash? I'm so used to going down in flames. Perhaps that's my idea of what a relationship is supposed to be.

I've realized that as soon as I get involved with someone and we declare our relationship a "relationship," I start asking "do you want to break up?" every other day. I only realized this when the last few girls brought it to my attention as a reason why they broke up with me. I guess I ask that because that's what I expect them to do. If I expect it, it won't hurt as much. Like if you know the balloon is about to pop, it won't freak you out nearly as much as if someone sneaked up behind you and popped one near the back of your head.

So I've found myself being interested in women whom I have no chance of a real future with. Part of me wants to say it's coincidence. Deep down, I know I just want to find "the one." I'm a serial monogamist... I don't have it in me to be a fuck em and chuck em sort of guy.

Part of me wants to believe that this is all just a coincidental circumstantial anomaly in which I just happen to have amazing chemistry with women I can't have. The way I've pined over exes though suggests another conclusion. I think this requires further observation and study... I just hope my heart can take it. Every fall into love that turns out to be a false start just puts more wear and tear on that part of me.

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What the Fuck is My Cat Up To While I’m Away?! (and other musings)

Sammy the catWhenever I get home from a long day at work, I'm greeted by my new cat, Sammy. He's always in the same spot he's in when I leave... laying on the kitchen floor rolling around on his back wanting me to pet him. Either that, or he's just sitting in front of the door waiting for me... as soon as I walk in, he'll yawn at me as though he's had yet another lazy day doin' cat stuff, and then he flops over on his back and rolls around on my feet so I can rub his belly.

Since we don't know each other very well yet, I ask him what he's been doing. He never answers. Then I scan the main rooms to make sure nothing is broken or knocked off shelves. I also look for random vindictive cat shits on something I like. Sometimes cats will exact revenge on you by shitting on something you like. They always know what will tick you off most.

One night, Sammy followed me into the bathroom after I sat down on the toilet and he just started pissing on a pile of my laundry right in front of me. Seriously, Sammy?! What the fuck, man? I'm pretty sure he was just letting me know I had neglected to clean his litter box as often as he liked.

I've caught him trying to get on counter tops and shelves, and since we don't know each other very well yet - I've been spritzing him with water to let him know that's not cool. He's been very good about learning the rules and at least adhering to them while I'm around. And before you even start - don't tell me how to raise or beat my kids.

I've also been catching him chewing on my DVD cases. I guess it's cool that he's not scratching the shit out of my furniture, but cats all seem to have at least one or two bad habits.

My old cat, Coffee used to catch and eat crickets and moths and cicada, but ignore roaches. This always kinda bothered me. C'mon kitty - do your job!

Sammy is different... I've been finding dead cockroaches around the kitchen. It's almost a bit alarming because I never knew there were so many at my house - in fact, it's always been a pretty rare occasion to see one. I guess it's good that he's doing his job with the worst of the worst. Also good that he's not eating them, I suppose. But he's been leaving their roach carcasses near my shoes as a present.

He won't eat crickets though - he'll try to smash them into the carpet with his paw, but then he'll get bored and wander off or yawn. He might have A.D.D.

So that's what I KNOW about him. It's what I DON'T know that has me concerned. Tonight before going to bed, I went to set the thermostat and saw that Sammy had pulled down a heavy queen-sized mattress that was propped up against a wall in an adjacent bedroom to the floor. I set that right and as I walked past the bathroom, I noticed a funky smell.

He spends a lot of time in there. I have no idea why, but he's always in the bathroom staring at the toilet. He likes to fuck up the bathmat for some reason. I decided to just put the bathmat up over the edge of the tub. When I pulled back the shower curtain, I discovered that he had been pissing in the bathtub - and I had plugged the drain to keep bugs from coming up from the sewer, so there was a nice little collection of old pee. Seriously, Sammy?

After cleaning that up, on my way to bed, I noticed that he had been rearranging shit all over the house. It didn't catch my attention at first... it's all very subtle. My shoes will be moved around, his bed will be in a different spot, or I'll see that he's moved one of my DVDs over to the other side of the room. It's like living with a poltergeist.

I just wonder where he's finding these roaches, what else he's pissing on, and what kind of crazy acrobatics he's doing to pull a 150 pound mattress over. I mean, am I going to check next month's phone bill and find out he's been making long-distance calls to Budapest?

It's coming up on 4am... that's the time he gets a sudden burst of kitten power and starts tearing around the house. He weighs about 10 pounds too much to be doing it the way he does it. It's like listening to a linebacker running through the halls tackling the walls and body checking the doors.

I still don't know if he ignores me or if he's hard of hearing.

We're bonding though. It's fun having a new friend that you're gonna know for a long time.


I originally was going to write about girls and sex and relationships tonight, but this cat thing just kinda spewed out of me.

One quick thing I guess... as I was checking my email at the various social networking and dating sites (yeah, I'm still up at a few of those), I found some email from a young lady who calls herself "Big-Titties." Before reading the email, I took a moment to check out her profile - which, as you can imagine, was not quite what one would consider "classy." This is a fairly respectable site I'm talking about, so to give you an idea... her profile in the context of this place is like if a yahoo personal ad or craigslist casual encounter somehow ended up on eHarmony.

She had half-nude pictures up with her face blurred, and I do have to admit... she did indeed have fairly "big titties" - ample, let's say. The content of her profile was poorly written and all related to sex and how much she liked it. It was also written in all caps. The basic gist was that she was down for casual sex with whoever. My first thought was "STD" petri dish. My second thought was to pick the brain of this person for "research."

I replied since she was showing as online. The email exchange was all one word each back and forth until she propositioned me for sex. She said "soooo... feel like hooking up?" To which I responded with "This sounds like a trap." (as a reference to the "it's a trap" internet meme). She quickly responded assuring me she's legit and that she's been on the site for almost a year (which was true, but meant nothing), and that she also goes on backpage.

I hadn't heard of backpage, so I checked it out. Every time I think I've seen just about everything the internet has to offer, it serves up another tasty dish. Backpage is apparently a craigslist competitor... except in the personals section, it's all webcam girls and hookers and spammers. Yes... hookers. Prostitutes. Women of the night. Pay to play. uhh... Rash for cash.

Anyway - she then sent me another message indicating that she was in fact a prostitute and said she would give me a discount. Awesome - a discount hooker propositioned me at 2am and I didn't even have to leave the couch. The internet is truly a wondrous place.

I declined and wished miss big-titties some good luck.

In this economy, I wonder if I could be a whore... and if I'd even be a good whore. I probably shouldn't keep giving it away for free... to be fair though, sometimes that's the only way I can move my inventory.

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I’m a Pretty Princess

I've recently discovered some things about myself that I guess I already knew, but that are now glaringly obvious in the context of my new job.

During training, they told us about their different departments and their policies. I found out that if I didn't like something, I could complain to someone about it and then someone else would be set to task to get said issue fixed for me... usually. Once I found this out, I sort of started abusing it.

Not intentionally, mind you - but I've been complaining and asking for things left and right. It hasn't gotten that bad so far - I've just been testing the waters. I asked for a different chair. I asked to be moved to a different cubicle because a guy next to me talked too loud and shook his leg. I requested they re-image my computer so my settings would remain when I logged in. I find myself thinking up new things to ask for just about every day. I even think of things to ask for while I'm at home.

It's like there's someone out there whose job it is to fulfill my every whim. It kinda makes up for the fact that this is an entry level position. Well, almost...

I think I've been getting carried away though. Today when I arrived at work, my station was missing a chair. I informed the nearest supervisor that my chair was missing, and he looked at me like I just took a shit in his mouth or showed him graphic sexual photos of his own grandmother giving a rim job to Pauly Shore. This deer-in-headlights look was followed by him asking me what I wanted him to do about it. He asked if I had a "special chair" or something as well.

This triggered my inability to respect authority, and I said "well, do you want me to sit on the floor all day, or am I just supposed to stand?" Then I asked him which station I could grab a chair from. I mean, I wasn't going to just steal the seat next to me and create the same problem for him.

He was kind of an asshole about it. He was acting like this issue was totally beneath is level of authority. Me just getting used to having shit taken care of kinda gave me the idea that anyone I complain to would just get it done. It's kinda silly actually. I mean, I just started.

Funny thing is, I've actually considered asking for a "special chair" because of my back. I have a feeling they might accommodate me. I've also considered asking for a fancy headset rather than the crap one they issued me. Then it's a new monitor because the standard one hurts my eyes - and speaking of which, these fluorescent lights aren't doing me any good either - can I have a nice reading lamp at my desk? I'd be a great Union leader.

Because I work in Gilbert with the pussy ass overly sensitive religious nut jobs, the breakroom television has almost every channel locked. Someone apparently cried about something they saw on Comedy Central or something, so they had every channel locked up except for ESPN and CNN. I mean, seriously?

CNN shows child rape and war and death and dismemberment. How is that not offensive as well? And ESPN is just dudes talking about sports between commercials about hair loss, stronger boners, cars, and beer. So racy beer commercials and ads about erection enhancement pass the morality litmus, but Discovery channel doesn't? What the filth?

Honestly, I don't really give much of a shit if I watch any tv while on break - I just find those two channels annoying as fuck. I mean, even the Disney channel is locked. They pay for every channel on satellite, but we can't watch anything but those two. Still - I've been thinking about submitting a complaint about that as well trying to get that fixed.

I just don't want to be too much of a squeaky wheel. Every day another issue. I've sort of always been a little bit fussy at restaurants and businesses I'm patronizing. Next thing you know, I'm gonna start complaining about shit out in public. Hey - the sun is bothering me, can someone make it not as hot? Thanks.

Actually, that would be an awesome superpower.

I'm probably going to end up fired from this job. I'll do my job right, but I'm sure I'll fuck something up. Sass off to the wrong person or something. Maybe just posting this publicly will get me sacked. I mean, I'm sure it's against company policy to say anything bad about the company or anyone that works there. I wonder if that applies to talking shit about myself.

I've been fired from pretty much every job I've had... though I haven't had an actual job for the last 12 years or so until now.

Well - if they fire me over this blog, I'll sue them or something. I'll just slip a disclaimer* at the end. That'll do it.

*Disclaimer* - I'm making all this shit up. The story you have just read is all fantasy and has nothing to do with anyone or anything living or dead or inanimate. Plus - I didn't actually write it. I found this scribbled in crayon on a crumpled up piece of construction paper on the bus. Also - this isn't really my account.

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Burned Bit, or Rat Shit?

Came home tonight hungry. My new regular night hours have created some stability in my life, but at the same time has caused me to forget how to feed myself. I've been waking up in the morning to a giant bowl of cereal.

Cocoa Pebbles was on sale, so that's what I've been eating. It has been ages since I've had it. It's still good - if you love chocolate and sugar.

I've noticed something about dudes (myself included, of course)... we don't count cereal as calories. Well, to be fair - most guys don't count calories. Guess I'm a bit of a freak for that. But if you look at the side of the box of cereal, the recommended dose (aka, serving size) is like 2 ounces... enough to fit in a shot glass or something... and that's supposed to be 300 calories or something. Part of a healthy breakfast, right? Part of?

So a man's idea of a serving size is this... we find the largest bowl in the kitchen. We don't care if it's the popcorn bowl or a mixing bowl or a 10qt stockpot. We basically will empty the entire box of cereal into the bowl or at least until the entire bowl is full of cereal. Then we will splash in whatever milk can fit in the space between the flakes or inside the holes. Then we'll get the largest spoon we can find and sit on the couch shoveling it into our faces until it's gone or until it goes soggy - whichever comes first.

So that's like what... 16000 calories? That should also explain why cereal only lasts one or two days when there's a man in the house. The key is to get rid of all your large bowls. Just have small bowls in your house.

This has been my diet. Cereal and turkey sandwiches. I've lost weight on this diet before - but that was when I was eating Total. You can't really eat Total like a man eats fuckin' Froot Loops. That shit goes soggy before you're halfway done. I think that's why women buy Total and Special K. So the men in the house don't eat it all in one sitting. Same thing with Grape Nuts, but for a different reason... I doubt anybody could eat more than half a cup of that shit at one sitting. I think our stomach acids turn those little Grape nuggets into giant foam clown noses or something.

So back to what I was saying... I eat cereal for lunch, I eat a sandwich for dinner, and then when I come home around midnight I get snacky and just eat whatever. Tonight it was the last bit of Cocoa Pebbles followed by a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats (also on sale). As I was spooning nut clusters into my mouth, I found a little black thing stuck to one of the flakes sitting on my spoonful. I know you've seen something similar. I've seen things like this stuck to the crust (usually the what was once the bottom of the loaf) of a slice of bread. I usually just pick them off and continue.

I had a decision to make... a quick decision. My little honey bunches were getting soggier by the second. I inspected the little black thing and wondered if it was a rat turd or just a burned flake. Either way, I guess I lose... so I moved on to size. I determined the little black thing was small enough that I didn't care if it was a turd or a burned flake as long as I could finish the bowl off before the milk sogged it out - so I shoved the spoon in my mouth... chewed and swallowed. I didn't die.

It's the kind of quick decision making skills I've been developing at this new job. You could put me in charge of an army and I'd be able to make those tough choices where I have to sacrifice a few lives to save thousands. Sure - I might have eaten a rat turd (or hell, maybe it was a piece of cockroach. How should I know?), but at least I finished off the entire bowl before it got soggy.

Now that's something to be proud of.

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Friend Requests

I went several years on myspace without sending a friend request. I merely accepted (or rejected) the ones that were sent me. At first it was just because I was getting a steady stream of them. Then it was just out of OCD... the ability to say "I've never sent a friend request."

At some point, I just decided to say "fuck it." So now I'll on occasion send requests. Part of my reasoning originally was that if I sent a request to be my friend and they accepted - I wouldn't really know if they truly wanted to be my friend or if they were just being nice.

The whole idea of a "friend request" is pretty silly. You're asking someone to please be your friend. Pretty please with sugar on top. It's awkward having to ask or request someone to accept you as a friend. I just never liked the idea.

But now I'm in the business of sending them on occasion. I don't get the opportunity very often, but when I do I'm not afraid to do so. I suppose I'll get rejected from time to time. At least I send them to people I've actually met or known usually... sometimes to people I've met online elsewhere.

I don't think I've ever really used this social networking stuff the way it was intended. At least I haven't taken full advantage of it. Now it seems to be on the way out. I don't know what's in anymore. Facebook seems to be full of lame, and I can't see it lasting. I mean, I keep seeing my 60+ year old IT clients on there who barely just freed themselves of AOL.

It's the new AOL. Myspace might not be so hip anymore, but Facebook never really was. Twitter is ridiculous.

I think people are just too busy being broke and jobless to waste their time myspacing and facebooking and twittering throughout the day. So I guess I'm blaming the economy on the current lull in social networking. Maybe someday it'll come back when we can return to being lazy Americans.

I've recently found myself with a lot less free time and a lot more busy now that I've got this new 9-5 type job. In spite of this, I've decided to do more social networking. I want more friends. Real friends. People I can call up and hang out with.

As with friend requests, I've never been good at seeking out friends - usually I just accept whatever friends have come along. Rejection doesn't terrify me - in fact, I've had healthy heaping doses of rejection served to me by the truckload, so I'm used to it.

Perhaps if I actively seek out and make new friends, I'll learn what it takes to be a good one.

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The Scarlet Leather

I don't know what it is about me that I tend to fall head over for unavailable women. Not just the ones who are unavailable, but the ones who also like me back. It's not one of those animal instinct things where my prey has to run away for me to even want to catch it. This goes deeper.

Perhaps it's some sort of flagellatory self abuse. Or maybe it's just that I don't really want anyone. It doesn't matter if they're taken or if they live hundreds of miles away or if they're an ex who has concluded that we simply don't work. As long as they're totally not right for me. I'm just not interested in normal.

Even better if they're a big mess psychologically. I tend to really fall for the hot mess. I truly hate drama, but then at the same time I unintentionally attract it to myself. As long as it's not normal.

The last girl I dated at least proved to me that it wasn't just women who dumped me. She dumped me and I was actually relieved. I didn't even need any closure. It's not that I didn't like her... she was cool and fun and pretty and sweet. She was the type who would bake for her man and take care of him. On paper, she was great. I guess I just found it boring. I need someone truly amazing to match my level of rad.

Her reasons for dumping me were stupid, and she didn't give me any warning it was coming. She just sprung it on me like an asshole. She did it in a way that would allow her to avoid as much conflict as possible. That was annoying enough for me to not really give a shit that she was dumping me.

Plus, I've been dumped so many times in the past few years, I've got calluses where it's supposed to hurt.

So I find myself chasing after women who can't be caught. Even if they want to be. Even if they don't for that matter. It could be my way of keeping myself occupied with relationship-type drama while at the same time not actually getting myself involved in an actual relationship. All of this is happening subconsciously of course, so I don't actually realize it's happening.

It feels pretty good to have a job now that occupies a huge chunk of my waking hours so I'm not sitting around just thinking about chasing skirts all day.

There is another theory though to all this - maybe I'm just falling for the girls I fall for and they all just happen to be unavailable in one way or another. That would at least make me not spectacularly dysfunctional.

One thing's for sure - I do miss actual companionship. I'm a relationship type of person. This single life stuff isn't for me.

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Update On My Stupid Life…

I suppose for a journal, I don't really have many actual journal entries. Most of what I write is either self-contained or themed or creative. Most of it is about me, but it's all more of a satire of me. Back when I started writing in this thing in 2003, I didn't really know what to write so I talked about shit that was going on.

Anyway, it's been awhile since I've done that, so here goes:

It's finally the end of the fucking week. Thank fuck. This is my second week at my new job. I haven't had an actual job in about 13 years or so. I've been running my own business and living off that. Well, the past few years I haven't really been covered by my self-employment income. Also - since I've lost my roommates and girlfriends who lived wit me - I've had to cover all the bills on this big house by myself.

Needless to say, I'm in a bit of a financial pickle.

I took an entry level job at Go Daddy - inbound support and sales. It's basically the same job I had when I first lived on my own over 15 years ago... for about the same pay. However, I know people who work at this company and they all do really well. Also, the only way to advance in this company is to start at the bottom.

So that's what I've done. I've started at the bottom... again. *sigh*

The new job is supposed to bail me out. People have been advising me to take this job for months, and I've put it off and put it off thinking it wasn't going to cover my bills. Part of it was my pride as well. Accepting failure after 12 years of self-employment is a bitter pill. I've heard a lot of people say "it's better than nothing." I don't know what that means.

The fact is - this job really won't cover my bills... for awhile. It has the potential to I guess - if I can sell sell sell (my soul). From what I hear, factoring in commission, it sounds like the average person working here in this position makes really decent money. On the low end, it's only about 500 bucks per month less than what I was making with my business when it was going well. It'll still be pretty tight if I'm among the low-enders, but on the high end, it's about 50% more than I made per month typically (when things were good).

In any case - the idea is to do this job until I can advance to a better position within the company. Also - having rad health care 100% paid for and paid vacation time and other perks that come with having a job really offset any negatives I can think of.

Another benefit is that I'm on a regular schedule. I've been waking up butt-ass early regularly for the first time in ages. I've been worried that I might get fired for not showing up during the 3 weeks training. Sometimes my body rejects the whole waking up thing. I'll sleep through 3 alarms and phone calls if I haven't had enough sleep. So far so good.

Now I have an appreciation for the weekend again. It's a strange feeling. Nine hour days followed by the precious days off. Foreign.

Also just got some fantastic news besides the relief of it being TGIF... I finally had a breakthrough with my PPH (poor people healthcare) that the government issued me 3 months ago. Tough to believe, but I called the pharmacy - asked them to fax my doctor - and my prescription is ready. No hoops to jump through - just free drugs. :)

It took a month to get them to give me the first month and then they told me I would have to basically eat a Buick if I wanted to get it again. I figured I would have to go without. Apparently not. It's so amazing to just call up the pharmacy and hear "yeah, it's ready for you to pick up." Holy shit. All it took was me being a little more flexible.

There's a lesson here then - be more flexible and get what I want. Will do. Seriously - I've been a rigid bastard over too many things. I invent rules for stupid shit out of thin air for no reason. I have to stop that shit. Maybe I was doing it because I had no other structure in my life. It's tough to admit, but this is all probably really good for me.

I haven't really told everyone this, but my house is in Foreclosure. I'm broke and in horrific debt. It's too late for this new job to save my ass, but I'll cross my fingers that the rest will work itself out. It looks like best case scenario is that I'll have to file bankruptcy. I don't know what things I own that I'll be able to keep - my house doesn't seem to be one of em.

I learned last night that I could get evicted soon. I knew it was coming though - none of this is really a huge surprise. Kinda wish I hadn't spent the last year depressed and mopey and worthless. Oh well - that's the past. I gotta figure out the future and live in the now.

That's the scoop on me... if anyone's still reading. Feel free to comment, praise, suggest, advise or criticize. I don't have shit to do this weekend either if you want to hang out with a broke-ass. There's an upside to being broke - I've lost about 15 pounds or so in the last few months. So there's that.

Speaking of broke - I've been broken up with more times than I can count in the last few years. It's getting ridiculous. I'm thinking about getting girls to sign contracts or something. Of course, being broke and losing your house isn't terribly sexy. At least I'm on the right track now. Starting from scratch. Ground zero.

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The Classy Broad

One of my favorite bars/restaurants is frequented by strippers as there are a few strip clubs across and down the street. That's not why I go there, but it's certainly an entertainment bonus.

I went there the other night with my gf and her friend. We sat at the bar and enjoyed some beverages. Right next to us was a dude with his nose stuck in his phone, texting. Next to him and facing us was his buddy - a loud and obnoxious guy who we later found out was an ex porn star. He was running his mouth about having been in prison for 6 years, breaking kneecaps with baseball bats and also trying to pick up this drunk blond next to him.

The blond was clearly a stripper... or "exotic dancer" if you like... gigantic fake breasts, all the makeup they had at the store spackled on her face, and supernatural looking hair. She was a complete ditz, trashy looking, and she kept talking about how guys buy her cars and give her money all the time. Next to her was a quiet guy buying her drinks.

She was going off about some guy who gave her 1500 to get her hair and nails done and then wanted to be her boyfriend. When she refused, he threatened her. The ex-porn star guy kept saying he knew people who would break his knees or smash his face with a baseball bat. She kept saying that guys buy her things and give her money.

I decided to make a drinking game where we would take a shot every time he said "with a baseball bat" or when she said "give me money and cars." I joked that we would all be on the floor with alcohol poisoning within 5 or 10 minutes.

Another couple - a man and a woman - walk in and take a seat at a table near the bar. The woman walks up to the bar after awhile to order a drink. The drunk ex-porn star tries to hit on her and offers to buy her a drink. She says "not if I have to drink it sitting next to you," and goes back to her seat. The texting guy next to me kept looking up from his phone to roll his eyes at me to shake his head in frustrated disbelief at the guy next to him.

The trashy drunk girl pulls out a dress and steps into it. She hikes it up over her giant tits in one swift motion. It was a skillful maneuver - she managed to change dresses at the bar without exposing her tits. Then of course, she pulled her tits out and flashed the few of us at the bar. It was a classy move. The funny part is that the dress she changed into was the same thing she changed out of, but a different color. She bragged that the quiet guy next to her bought her three of them - different colors.

The dress was hideous in both colors I saw it in. My description won't do it justice, but it looked like a tight 80s Kelly Bundy slut dress with an ugly Golden Girls flowy frock part that went over the front making her look fat and shapeless.

She kept drinking and got louder the more drinks went in her. She started talking on the phone about scoring some coke and other drugs. "I just want to go home and do a bunch of hard drugs."

It was all pretty entertaining.

At one point, the obnoxious ex-porn star was blabbering about how he had violated his parole. Someone asked him how he violated it, and I interjected asking, "did you walk within 50 yards of an elementary school?" Everyone busted up at my joke, but he got all serious and threatened to murder me or something, so I laughed uncomfortably until he dropped it. Some people can't take a joke... or at least jokes about them molesting children. Psh...

That about killed the evening for that side of the bar, so they all paid their checks, sucked down their last drinks and slowly made their exit. Text guy apologized for porn guy and vowed to take him home. A few minutes later, drunk girl started shouting at the girl that was sitting at the table near the bar. I think it started because she said she liked her dress.

Drunk girl said the other one looked old and wrinkly and kept asking her to fight. She also swatted at some menus and knocked stuff off the table. The quiet guy had to drag her out of the bar screaming. We could hear her in the parking lot still screaming about wanting to "fight the bitch."

This is the sort of thing that keeps me coming back to a joint. I suppose this sort of thing would make other people NOT want to return.

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