Archive for July, 2006

I am not a morning person.

Not only am a not a morning person, I hate the morning people who insist on being chipper first thing in the morning.

Also, I am not a phone person.  A gabber, if you will.

So when you call me in the morning and I flip the phone open and shut, hanging up on you, don’t call back.

If you do call back and I flip the phone open long enough to hear you say, “Don’t hang up on me agai…” before I close it, hanging up on you again, don’t call back.

And if you call a third time, and I simply hit the button that shuts the ringer, sending you to voicemail, don’t leave me a bitchy ass voicemail crying about how I should not hang up on you.

If you know me, you wouldn’t call me in the morning in the first fucking place.

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After running a bunch of errands yesterday, I enjoyed an ice cold beverage at my coffee shop.  I hung out for an hour or two and, right before I left, I felt the need to go to the bathroom.

When I got to the toilet, I was surprised to discover there was no need to unzip, as my zipper was already down.

So I backtracked to the last time I went to the bathroom to determine how long the zipper was down.

After a moment of contemplating, I realized I hadn’t gone to the bathroom since I had woken up.

Here’s a breakdown of the places I went:

Circuit City for an hour, tooling around and buying software for my new cell.

My Chinese buffet for an hour.  Yeah, I couldn’t go to a restaurant that day where I just sat.  I had to pick one that involved walking to the buffet a couple times.

High’s for some smokes and some gas.

So I was running about for a few hours.

Good thing I don’t go commando.

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I talked to my buddy last night (the one who lives in San Diego) and we were trying to decide what to do when I came out there.

First thing I found out was we would not be going to Alcatraz, as it is not in San Diego. Immediately following I was told I was an idiot.

We decided on a bar two blocks from him, a Padres game (most likely) and Tijuana. Oh, and the beach. Oddly, I’ve been to LA and Century City, but I’ve never been to the beach out there. Considering most of my beach experience is from shitty Ocean City, I’m looking forward to checking out the Pacific.

Four more weeks and I’m outta here. Maybe I won’t come back.

And since I’m testing yet another blog entry tool, here’s the devil sign. Shadow style.

zomg devil worship!

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Usually I use MySpace and DonkeyHat to whore my reviews and such, but this is as good as place as any to whore my latest…

FoC2Banner.gif

Click that banner for some reporting from the set of Fear of Clowns 2!

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Yesterday I was thinking about my flight to California, and what would happen if something happened.

I’ve never been afraid of flying (I actually like it) and, except for that one flight to Germany when I nearly pissed my pants, I’ve never had any reservations about flying.  Statistically, I’ll be fine.

But, as I said, I was thinking about my flight.  The thing I was wondering about is say there’s a plane crash, but I survived.  What do I get out of it?  I mean, besides life.  Life is cool and all, but do I also get free first class tickets from that airline for the rest of my life?

I’ll take some scrapes and fear for a lifetime of free first class tickets.

Of course I say that now.

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