'it's 1015 on a friday night...'
oh happy birthday, marge! cheers to all good things on the, um, well whatever it is anniversary of your turning twenty-one. a natal celebration to be had by all!
quite a day. i think i can say, without hyperbole, that i did nothing today but write, play on photoshop, and email with friends. bosslady out malaised (attending to the youngin', no doubt) and bigbossman was equally as bored and called me into his (fabulous corner) office to hang out. talked him out of putting some bullshit in my department and, thus, not to be handled by my 'group.' i'm pretty smooth at talking people into, or out of, things. i mean, i can't well write all day and take two hour lunches to run in the park (lovely run, while i'm on it) when i have real work to do, now can i? clearly these people don't have the same priorities as do i. i suppose that was my good (and only) deed of the day.
and for what it's worth, if god had an enema, he'd stick it between 23rd and 59th streets. my two cents.
on the venerable long island railroad, second weekend in a row, and, for once, have nothing to say about the locals. quiet. got my own seat. express to marge's. well, transferred at jamaica (mon) for the espresso, and the ride to jamaica (mon) was rather unfortunate, but merely a speed bump in the way. fell into a standing room only crowd (but then i did board the 830 at 829) and got next to the only other person in the world i've ever seen, other than me, whose hair is dark blonde but who grows a red beard. yes, he clearly wants down the skank's pants with whom he's been talking, and she clearly wants down his: 'nooo, me and the skater are like kaput since the macy's incident, i mean, hel-LOW!' 'yeah, well i think he's a fool.' 'i think he's a fool, too! do you really think he's a fool?' they're in the railroad restroom as we speak, i'm sure. despite, i kind of wanted to ask him about his beard, but since i'm growing my hair out for the first time since i was [this] many years old, i think i'm going to keep with the harrystudsvideo.com theme and grow a beard back, too. what the hell, i hate shaving and it is a theme after all...
and speaking of shaving... so, as i'm partly an eye-talian (i really, really hate that, by the way), i hit puberty like a brick wall in the eighth grade which is when i started shaving. no, clearly not every day or even every other day, but i was called 'stache' by the kids at the now defunkt st. joe's. even got a disposable razor for my birthday that year by one of my classmates, a pilferage from daddy's pack, i'd imagine. but, still and for all, when i hit puberty, i hit it hard: i've been cutting myself every other day (cuz every other day growth is sexy) for the past, oh, sixteen years. time to hibernate for the winter that we're hellbent on not getting endowed to us this year... down with haircuts, down with shaving... i'm going to be a hairy bastard, and i'm liking the thought of it.
red, not kidding. wait and see.
quite a day. i think i can say, without hyperbole, that i did nothing today but write, play on photoshop, and email with friends. bosslady out malaised (attending to the youngin', no doubt) and bigbossman was equally as bored and called me into his (fabulous corner) office to hang out. talked him out of putting some bullshit in my department and, thus, not to be handled by my 'group.' i'm pretty smooth at talking people into, or out of, things. i mean, i can't well write all day and take two hour lunches to run in the park (lovely run, while i'm on it) when i have real work to do, now can i? clearly these people don't have the same priorities as do i. i suppose that was my good (and only) deed of the day.
and for what it's worth, if god had an enema, he'd stick it between 23rd and 59th streets. my two cents.
on the venerable long island railroad, second weekend in a row, and, for once, have nothing to say about the locals. quiet. got my own seat. express to marge's. well, transferred at jamaica (mon) for the espresso, and the ride to jamaica (mon) was rather unfortunate, but merely a speed bump in the way. fell into a standing room only crowd (but then i did board the 830 at 829) and got next to the only other person in the world i've ever seen, other than me, whose hair is dark blonde but who grows a red beard. yes, he clearly wants down the skank's pants with whom he's been talking, and she clearly wants down his: 'nooo, me and the skater are like kaput since the macy's incident, i mean, hel-LOW!' 'yeah, well i think he's a fool.' 'i think he's a fool, too! do you really think he's a fool?' they're in the railroad restroom as we speak, i'm sure. despite, i kind of wanted to ask him about his beard, but since i'm growing my hair out for the first time since i was [this] many years old, i think i'm going to keep with the harrystudsvideo.com theme and grow a beard back, too. what the hell, i hate shaving and it is a theme after all...
and speaking of shaving... so, as i'm partly an eye-talian (i really, really hate that, by the way), i hit puberty like a brick wall in the eighth grade which is when i started shaving. no, clearly not every day or even every other day, but i was called 'stache' by the kids at the now defunkt st. joe's. even got a disposable razor for my birthday that year by one of my classmates, a pilferage from daddy's pack, i'd imagine. but, still and for all, when i hit puberty, i hit it hard: i've been cutting myself every other day (cuz every other day growth is sexy) for the past, oh, sixteen years. time to hibernate for the winter that we're hellbent on not getting endowed to us this year... down with haircuts, down with shaving... i'm going to be a hairy bastard, and i'm liking the thought of it.
red, not kidding. wait and see.
posted by tom at 10:15 PM
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