that was one hell of a weekend

the raz has been on a little mini-vaca for the past who-knows-when. the raz is the word tired today. he cannot type, he cannot think, he cannot even see straight from lack of sleep. he's been working on one hella-post about his vaca and its taking a long time. its taking a long time because he has not actually started writing it. no, he started the handwriting part of it on the plane, on the bus, in the cab, on the train and shit, but nothing is typed yet.

did he just contradict himself 3 different times in the past three sentences? and for the fuck of man, why is he using the 3rd person so much?

lots of good stories to come. maybe not for you, but for me at least.

lots of wild, crazy, and dangerous sex to tell about. and the pictures i have to post, holy shit, you won't believe the shit i took. oh for fuck, that's right, i don't have a camera and i couldn't post them on this site yet even if i did.

its sleepy sleepy time for the raz. just 2 more hours till my head hits that PELLow

yeah, so i started a post for today, right? and it just got good, i mean really good. the kind of good where i just can’t help but know myself that its fucking awesome. this has been happening a lot lately. i start writing, it starts getting to the point where i really like it and just have to keep flowing, and i just can’t get myself to stop. not that i really need to stop, i’m just saying.

the bad news is that usually once all this flowing happens i don’t feel like posting it anymore once its finished. or maybe that’s good news, i don’t know.

so i’m seconds away from finishing up, right? and i say to myself “ok, time to post this shit and get out of here.” only i know its not going to happen because i’m just not ready with it yet and i never post anything that i really like and shit.

so then i start feeling like i want to post SOMETHING because that’s what i initially started out wanting to do.

so i do.

i write some bullshit about some crap of fuck and just hit post.

it's a conspiracy

so i’m at tt the bear’s the other night
i’m there to see my new favorite band play – lincoln conspiracy
i have to go by myself because none of my friends trust me that they’re good
i pay my $5 at the door and buy a $5 drink
standing by myself listening to them jam out “lets get ready to go”
tapping my feet on the floor, not dancing because i don’t know how
checking out this very fine chick in front of me dancing with her friend
watching her turn around and smile at me once in a while
trying to listen to her say something to me
going over to the bar to get her something to drink
she likes harpoon, which is good because that’s what i’m drinking
i’m sipping on my 3rd beer this year, no joke, i don’t drink
i dont tell her that
she smiles some more and asks me how i came to be there
i tell her i know the band
which is true
only i don’t tell her i just know the keyboardist, and not even that much
she tells me that’s way cool and that she thinks the keyboardist can really rock out
i tell her if she likes him she should see me play sometime
she says no way
i tell her i’ll prove it sometime
she says we should go someplace more quiet and talk
i say that i need to watch them rock out for awhile
she understands and goes back to her friend
i stand there rocking out to them, or at least just tapping my feet to the beat
show ends like 20 minutes later
cute chick comes back and asks me what i’m doing now
i tell her i’m going over to the middle east to watch another band
she convinces me to go chill at her place instead
she lives on brookline ave, real close to tt’s
shes shows me a good time and says don’t go
i tell her i have to work in the morning and she tells me to just skip
she shows me another good time and then i tell her i really have to go now
she understands and i leave something on her nightstand
she tells me she hopes its my number
i tell her she might be right
i slip down the stairs and open the door to light rain
the walk home at 3am after being shown a good time and seeing my new favorite band is just perfect
cute tt girl who was rocking out and showed me a good time, will you call me already?

-----------------------------

see the conspiracy soon, before they get big and famous and expensive and cool and all that jazz

slick willie

no doubt you all caught 60 minutes last night with dan rather interviewing bubba clinton.

hmm. not that interesting really, which surprised me. with what i’ve been reading and hearing lately about his book i figured i could just watch 60 minutes and learn everything i could learn if i read the book.

at least tempt us bill, please. at least make us want to pick up the book and give it a browse.

no but seriously, i’ve always liked big slick. maybe he was the first president that i was old enough to actually follow and understand. i liked what he did for the economy especially. i liked what he did with interest rates. i liked the unemployment rates while he was in office. i liked the continuation of UN inspections in iraq and not going back to war. i liked a reduction in national debt. i liked his big goofy laugh and his big goofy smile.

but the interview was more on the personal life of bubba, and tended to step away from the presidential life. he talked about his life growing up. boring. he talked about his mother. boring. he talked about his father and stepfather. boring. he talked about his new library. boring. he talked about monica. jackpot. he talked about hillary. jackpot. he talked about his best and worst days in office. jackpot.

dan rather: “lets talk about the worst day you had while in office”
bubba: “the morning i got up and told hillary the truth, just a few days before the grand jury testimony”
dan: “in your book you talk about regret and this issue”
bubba: “i will always regret it. and the issue doesn’t get much more complicated than i did it because i could. i made a terrible moral error”

wow. lets review.

dan is asking about monica, or, he knows that the worst day bubba had would probably have something to do with her. but there is no mentioning of her name. bubba doesn’t say “the morning i got up and told hillary ABOUT MONICA, days before going before the grand jury.” if you woke-up from a 10 year coma last night and turned on the tv to 60 minutes you wouldn’t have a clue what they were talking about.

bubba has his patented smile while talking about the issue, and even let out a rather large laugh during the monica convo. the smile bothered me the most. i know he’s known for always carrying it around and just sitting there looking at you just waiting to answer your question perfectly, and smiling all the while, but really, during the monica convo? it was a little disturbing.

he did it because he could. hmm. i think we all knew this, or thought of how power played an important role in how the monica relations started. but just hearing him say those words so honestly.

you see, he lied about monica. then he told the truth. then he told us how it ever happened. HELLO GEORGE FUCKING W YOU-KNOW-WHO AND THIS ADMINISTRATION, YOU BETTER THE FUCK BE TAKING SOME NOTES HERE!

i miss you slick willie. i don’t care about monica, flowers, and whoever all those other women were. you were still a great president, and we miss you even more now that we have a monkey in office trying to run the country.

miss the raz ride last night?

since i’m desperate to find this person i figured i’d try posting the ad here as well.

posted in missed connections on the boston craigslist today:

miss the raz ride last night?

you – corner of fairmont and pleasant in cambridge, near the bread and clown grocery store. 6pm on thursday night. you were at the crosswalk and waited for me to stop.

me – total hottie in the wife beater and bling bling gold chains that pulled up to the crosswalk in my pimping low-rider 1990 honda accord with tinted windows, konig rims, black widow body kit, racing dynamics thumping exhaust, and new high-profile rear spoiler by turner. i may or may not have had my street glow exterior lighting on at 6pm. no doubt you could tell, but just in case - those were in fact kenwood 6x9s, and 4-ways in the rear deck, with audiobahn component speakers in the front, and 2 soundstorm 15" subs that were pumping the latest beastie boys so loud it was making your hair blow as you stood there in awe.

i couldn’t tell for sure because my system was pumping so hard and you were standing there trying to hold your ground as the beat of triple trouble rocked away, but i think i saw you smile and blush?

i tried to yell at you as i cruised by just in case you were interested: YO HOT THAAANG, GIMME YOUR NUMBA?!! i don’t think you could hear me through the pumping tunes though.

not so though, am i right? because no doubt that was you in my rearview mirror running down the street flailing your arms with pen and paper in hand. my wheels had to spin babe, i’m sorry bout that. when my ride says go there’s no stopping her, she just wants to race.

give the raz dog another chance?

gay men always approaching me

i’ve got time to tell you about just one right now. don’t ask for others even if you know i have shit loads more i could tell.

if you compare the amount of men that have hit on me to the amount of women i’ve slept with you’d come up with something like 20/1. except i’m not lying.

what i’ve got is this big annoying “i’m gay and love it up the ass” sign tattooed to my forehead every time i walk around harvard square. i know this to be true because:

a) every gay dude within a 20 mile radius comes running at me with their dick in their hands, drool on their chins, and fuck-me-now eyes.b) no woman has ever even looked at me. ever. they see the tattoo and immediately find something to look at in the complete opposite direction.

so now that you know how this happens.

i’m in the square today getting my lunch, and as i’m walking by the hoards of college girls that are looking up at the sky or down at the ground i see this dude that i used to know in college. he’s the only person who has made eye contact with me so far, so even if i didn’t know him already i’d know he was gay.

we both used to work at a video store in college. not once did we ever work the same shift though, and i’m not sure how that happened. none the less, we’d say hi to each other when we saw each other on campus or whatever. one time he left his shock treatment soundtrack at work. i didn’t know it was his so i stole it and gave it a listen. it was good but not awesome so i brought it back to work and left it somewhere. he comes into the store to pick up his check and finds the cd moments later. this is when he starts asking the whole store what part of the fucking sky it just fell from. i admit it was me and he just leaves, very upset. later that night he gives me a call in my apartment:

gay dude: listen, sorry i was so upset about the cd today, i’d just been looking for it forever and was pissed i lost it or someone stole it.
raz: yeah, no, i’m sorry for taking it and not asking, i didn’t even know it was yours.
gay dude: well, no hard feelings ok? i’m happy to have it back. did you like it?
raz: some of it was good, the rest sucked my ass (maybe that’s what i wanted to say).

couple minutes of bullshitting goes by about the album.

gay dude: isn’t it odd that we’ve worked at the same store for like 3 months and have never had a shift together?
raz: bla bla bla

couple minutes of more bullshitting goes by about bullshit.

gay dude: so, like, maybe we should get together sometime and watch a movie or something.
raz: yeah, that sounds good.
gay dude: like this weekend?
raz: um, well, sure!

lots of silence as i think that we both don’t know how to end the conversation and that the previous bit was never going to actually happen.

gay dude: well, come to think of it, my roommate isn’t here right now if you want to come over. he actually won’t even be back tonight.

hmm, now the raz is thinking to himself that something may be a bit odd about that last sentence. 1) he didn’t mention a movie like before. 2) we don’t really know each other past the video store and the shock treatment album. 3) his roommate is gone and somehow it will be a good thing that he’s not coming back tonight.

fortunately his next comment clears everything up:

gay dude: so, you are gay, right?
raz: ah! there we go, i was wondering why what you just said didn’t make any sense! no, sorry, i’m not. and sorry if i led you to think i was.

bla bla bla and we hang up. i quit the video store like 3 days later, though not because of him (although another good story for another day).

yeah, so now he works in harvard square and i see him from time to time. the first time we stopped and chatted for like a minute before we realized we never really used to know each other to begin with.

today i see him again for the first time in a long time. he almost doesn’t recognize me but then does and almost stops walking to say hi. unfortunately for him i’ve made no attempt to stop, but i kind of say “how’s it going” as i keep walking. “oh shit, he stopped and wanted to talk” i think to myself when i pass him. i can’t look back now.

its always awkward to be hit on by men when you’re not gay. i almost feel bad. and i almost feel like i’m the one who’s having the most awkward time with the situation. shouldn’t they be the ones who are nervous and all scared and awkward like? why are they so bold and brave when hitting on a complete stranger? – especially when they don’t even know for sure if the stranger is even gay!

anyway, the college gay dude is the only one that i would imagine feels more awkward than me whenever we see each other, which makes me feel a little better.

convenience store nightmares

you’re glad you were not a candy bar that was in our kitchen last night at about 3am, trust me.

its 2:30am on a tuesday night. i went to bed at like 12:30. i’m now lying on my back just awaking from a nightmare. it was the usual nightmare i have, and it mainly involved candy and a convenience store (usually the mobile station from my hometown in VT). usually the candy/convenience store nightmares go something like this:

i finish putting gas in my car, and its at night sometime. i’m going inside to pay because i never pay at the pump. paying at the pump is for retards who like to save time. i decide to cruise the candy isle for a bit until i can find the reeses pieces. while i’m doing this there is this busload of people that walks into the store and just gets in line behind the register. they all want to buy like a million scratch tickets and lots of cigarettes. i just stand there and don’t know what to do. i’m standing. i’m looking at this hoard of people just lining up and lining up and lining up. all that lining up and won’t they stop lining up already! i just freak. i freak in that i just stand there even longer telling myself to move. but you know how dreams are, everything is in slow motion. so now i’m starting towards the end of the line but i just can’t seem to get there. and all this time we see more and more people lining up and before i know it another bus has pulled in. i’m moving at the pace of a dead man, i’m making no progress on the getting in line bit. every step i take the line gets like 20 people longer. i’m crying now because i need to pay for my gas and i have these reeses pieces in my hand that i just need to eat. i need this candy like its the last food on earth, i’ve got a craving like you wouldn’t believe. and there i am in the slow-motion nightmare-like world where lines at the register just keep getting longer and longer and you can’t seem to get in line behind anyone and you can’t just start eating the damn candy because that’s what nightmares make you think. my convenience store nightmares are like this every time.

but you always wake up. and i did. but everytime i wake up from these nightmares it takes me awhile to convince myself that i’m not in the dream anymore. i have to tell myself that there is no bag of reeses pieces in my hand. then i have to check and make sure. once i find out i’m right i crave candy like crazy. so i jump out of bed and race downstairs like there’s a fire and i need to get out like 10 minutes ago. i’m in front of the refrigerator in like 5 seconds flat. i’ve got cupboard doors flying open, cereal boxes that are flung to the floor in search of some sort of chocolate hidden way back there. i’ve spilled somebody’s splenda all over the counter. i’ve just flung a bag of oats over my head. our cat just came down to investigate the madness in the kitchen. he doesn’t know where the candy bars are either but i keep asking him anyway. then its found. one of my roommates has hidden a pathetic looking, half-eaten, piece of shit low-carb, high-ass, no-calorie, no-sugar, no-good, dark chocolate bar of fuck way back in the corner. but right now it looks like heaven to me, nothing else in the world could be more valuable to me at this moment. seconds after consuming the bar of chocolate i decide fudge straight from the jar might be a good idea. and it was. the cat is just sitting on the floor completely appalled at what he’s watching, which is why i start to clean up and head back to bed.

trying to fall asleep after consuming that much fudge and that much low-carb is not easy. i’m wide awake from the sugar in the fudge, and i’m farting like a madman from all that low-carb consumption. i’m blowing the covers clear off the bed with these farts. but at least i can feel good about not having to make a mad dash to the store 24 just down the street for my fix. i never want it to come to that. but lord help me if i did and there was a line for the register clear out the door when i got there.

random things that i've heard or overheard this past week or so:

“turns out he’s pretty much a spaz – so i went ahead and had sex with him a few more times”

“yeah, i finally got my license, and it only took my 4 tries!”

“the thing about owning dogs in the city is that they shit a lot”

“yeah but i wore all this cleavage today just for you”

“um, guys? i pissed my pants on the way home from the bar just now. but it’s raining out so i figured it was ok and nobody would notice”

“thanks for the fuck, i’ll see you later”

jane's addiction

i have to give a shout-out to a blogger that just cracks me. jane’s blog is just some funny shit. i like her because she started her blog about the same time i started mine, she’s way hot, you can’t tell if she’s lying or not (at least i like to think this), and she sleeps with lots of people (remind you of anyone you know?). at the rate she sleeps with different guys i may have to look her up the next time i’m out in cali. her photo’s are some funny shit, tell her you want to see more, i did. she’s climbing the list on my blogs that i visit each day (and in record time i might add - climbing my list the way she has done is not easy) i may even move her up to the #5 spot today. check her out, you’ll laugh.

is that you kate?

oh man. i’m checking my yahoo mail like every 5 minutes today. normally i check it like every other hour or so at work, but not today. i checked it when i came in this morning and yahoo told me that they’re giving me like a million more mega-shits of space and even making the interface look cooler. but this was not the first thing i noticed. the first thing i noticed was this really hot chick staring at me on the screen as i’m signing in. so i don’t sign in. i just sit there staring at her. eventually i find out she’s there to greet me with the good news of all these cool updates. well, thank you very much yahoo for all the updates, but i think your best move was putting the picture of this chick on the sign in page. now i can’t get off of yahoo mail, i can’t stop signing in then signing back in just to see her again. unfortunately they forgot to put her yahoo email address next to her picture so i can email her. i think she’s so cute because she looks just like kate beckinsale. hmm, maybe it is kate beckinsale. gotta get back to my mail now.

mail.yahoo.com

sometimes i'll go grocery shopping

like last night. i usually like going by myself because i can stop and take my time appreciating situations like this while i’m trying to pick out my pasta sauce:

i keep hearing this really annoying loud shrieking noise from somewhere in the store, so i decide to go investigate. this older mother (she looks old anyway) has this baby sitting in the cart. the baby thinks its very funny when it shrieks randomly, making people walk by kind of jump. the mother does not find this that funny, but doesn’t do anything about it. i think this is strange and follow them around for a bit to make sure i’m seeing this correctly. i mean, if it were my kid i’d be sick of listening to the shrieks and tell the kid to shut the fuck up like forever ago. so i’m walking around following them and sure enough the mother can’t even hear the kid, or is pretending not to anyway. and the kid isn’t even looking at the mother, the kid is only paying attention to customers walking by, so we know he doesn’t care about mother at this point. i can’t stop following them and watching this. i mean i’m starting to hate the kid right now for shreiking so much, but i’m also beginning to wonder why the mother won’t save us all and tell the kid to shut up. but i’m worse than that, because i’m also waiting for some poor soul to tell the mother to do something about the kid, because i can tell the mother is about to blow. and then it happens. i’ve followed them for 3 isles now waiting for this. two older women, maybe 70 or 75 are trying to pick out the best head of lettuce in the produce area. they see and hear the loud as fuck kid coming towards them and decide to say something to the mother: “excuse me, but would you mind doing something about all this noise he seems to be making?” the mother replies, rather exhausted like: “yeah, i’ve tried and it doesn’t do any good.” one of the older women decides to press further: “well, i have 10 grandchildren, and none of them ever acted the way your child is now, what he needs is a good slap across the face, or at least bring him out to the car to save us all.” mother does not like this one bit as she responds using a VERY loud voice and in hysterics now: “WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME HOW TO RAISE MY KID? I’LL DO WHATEVER I DAMN WELL THINK IS BEST THANK YOU VERY MUCH!” she is now in tears as she races towards the check-out. i just stand there and listen to one old woman tell the other: “that woman is just as crazy as the kid, if he were my grandchild he’d have gotten a slap across the mouth the first time, and there wouldn’t even have been a second time.”

later on i hear another kid tell his mother in the cereal isle: “i think i just pee’d my pants.”

ah, nothing like going grocery shopping and not having kids.

lack of pics

you may have noticed that there are very few pictures on this blog. very few as in none at all. this is because raz does not own a camera, digital or otherwise. raz wants a camera. raz needs a camera. raz should get a camera. raz will get a camera. raz will be getting a camera sometime before he turns 30. this much he has promised himself.

not having a camera saves you from seeing the pictures of women raz sleeps with. but not having a camera prevents you from visually appreciating the day to day activities in his life. raz feels for you. raz knows you want the pics. raz is working his ass off to get the money for a new camera. you’ll know it when raz gets a camera. lord help you, you’ll know it.

i work out every single day

i figure i owe it to myself.

and the ladies.

i usually hit the gym early in the morning or late at night, depending on how i feel for the day. or how much work i have. if i don’t hit the gym then i throw on my running shoes and pound some pavement for a few hours. if i don’t pound the pavement then i grab my tennis racket and hit the courts for a few matches. if i don’t hit the courts then i grab my basketball and throw some hoops with the neighborhood kids for a bit. if i don’t throw some hoops then i’ll usually throw on some swim trunks and hit the charles river for some laps from shore to shore next to the harvard bridge. if i don’t swim some laps then i’ll usually try to hit the links out in newton for a quick 9 holes, no cart.

this keeps me pretty limber in the sack, or so the ladies tell me.

i tell them to just enjoy the moment, we can talk about my incredible physique later.

new retarded style motorcycle helmet - custom & tested! $30

Please note that this is a custom helmet. it was purchased new, opened from the box and immediately tested via banging my head upon our wall. the helmet passed the test, though there is a little white paint on the front now (man was that a stupid move). you won't find white paint like this on any other helmet around. the white paint makes this helmet even more different than any other T67 helmet you can purchase on the market. no need to bang your own head on a wall. but really, the custom white paint area is very small and didn't do any damage, i wish i had an actual picture of the helmet to show you. the picture you see is one that i drew.

also please note - you may not want to buy this helmet for bicycle purposes. don't be fooled into thinking this will make a good bicycle helmet, you'll look retarded at best. i purchased this helmet to use as a mountain bike helmet, man was that a mistake. turns out its not quite as stylish without the actual motorcycle to go with it. i also thought i'd look cool, but i don't. helmet is much too big to go with my mountain bike outfit, i look like a goof. something to think about. you get that info at no charge. HAT INCH SIZE AROUND 7-3/8 23-1/8 59 LG

T67 Shorty Style Motorcycle Helmet

Meets or exceeds DOT standards.

Gloss Black

Lightweight Polycarbonate shell.

Fully lined for safety and comfort.

Short brim visor attached.

Perfect for motorcycles.

Retarded for bicycles.




best of craigslist post

fleet screwed me up the ass

and it hurt.

i think it might be nice to get my roommate a card and some euro cash to buy a few drinks at a cafe over in italy or france or spain or the port of who-knows-where when he takes off for the euro this weekend. you know, so he can sit and relax and think about how much more fun he’s having over there than i am right here. i know i don’t do nice things for people, but this time i did. figures i’d get screwed while trying to do this. watch me ever do anything nice for someone again.

so its like a million degrees outside today when i walk to the bank. i get to fleet and almost pass-out at the doorstep. i hike down the stairs and go to the international teller. i tell her what i need for cash, she gives it to me, all is good. i’m turning around to walk out and she says “i’m sorry, i should have told you this before our transaction but we’re going to charge you $3 for doing the exchange.” i have to wonder how much more they could rape me on this deal. i mean, they already charge like 20% more than the current exchange rate to do the exchange, then a $3 charge on top of that?! so i tell her that she’s crazy, only i don’t. before i go nuts on her ass she explains how i should go upstairs and do the transaction at an atm for free, and she’ll just put in a refund request. i ask her if she can just put in the request and call it even, but no. she has to take the money back and i have to go upstairs and start over. nice way to handle the situation fleet, really nice. so i trek upstairs all pissed off and put my card into the atm. i thought the sign above the atm said “currency exchanges only.” and it did, only it didn’t say international. turns out it didn’t matter anyway because the atm ate my card. i told an employee who said back to me, and i’m not kidding: “oh, yeah, that machine will do that sometimes for no reason.” nice. that makes sense fleet, really, keep the machine in operation, good idea. so she gets me into line so i can get a new card, and i should probably mention that she was really hot. like i-can’t-keep-my-eyes-off-you kind of hot. but that has nothing to do with the story. i wait like 20 minutes and then they work on getting me a temporary card. they tell me that i can use this card right now, but that i’ll get a new card in the mail in like a week to 10 days. things are starting to get better now, but it only lasts about 30 seconds. i’m at the right atm now, and ready to insert my card and have it eat that one too. but it doesn’t and i’m feeling good. i push 2 $20 bills into the machine and tell it i want a 20 euro bill and the rest in change. only the machine is dumb and it doesn’t like to give change. it doesn’t like to give ANY change. sure, i got my 20 euro bill, but there should def be some change coming to the raz! i’m not as pissed as i should be, maybe because i can now go back to can’t-keep-my-eyes-off-you girl. i tell her i may be hot and tired and pissed off but i swear to god that machine over there forgot to give me change. she kind of smiles because she knows my whole bank situation today. i tell her what happened and she said not to worry about it, that she knows what my account is from my previous problem, and that i should just get going and she’ll refund me the cash into my account. thank you fleet. you did the right thing, finally. only you owe me much more now for all the trouble you’ve given me today. i won’t mind a bit if you decide to throw an extra hundred into my account. i get back to my office an hour later and decide to check my bank account online. only it gives me the following message:

“Your temporary Fleet Total Access Check Card or Fleet 24-Hour Access Card cannot be used to login to Fleet HomeLink or Fleet OfficeLink. You may access Fleet HomeLink or Fleet OfficeLink when you receive your permanent card.”

fuck me over a barrel. this is not a good message to receive when you’re poor as fuck and you have to check your online statement like every hour because you live paycheck to paycheck and need to keep a constant eye on the balance. i like to know when those porn site bills hit my account. i like to know when that monster cable bill goes through and drains the raz account. today is payday and i got money flying out faster than its coming in, need to keep track of this shit fleet! frigging send me my card already or make this temp card work else i’m comin at ya fleet! not a happy customer here fleet! fair warning!

raz almost gets the boot

the dean walked into my office today. the dean never walks into my office. she was smiling and was holding a stack of envelopes. one of them had my name on it. hmm.

i’m getting promoted?
i’m getting a raise?
i’m getting fired?

none of the above.

the envelope had the dean seal on the back, with “confidential” stamped in pink on the front. if this was a pink slip it would have been a nice touch, that pink stamp bit.

the letter explained in detail how i would not be losing my job next month. this was the news. this was the news that just had to be hand-delivered by the dean herself. i was never even aware that i would be losing my job next month, so i was a bit surprised. i joked to others at work that we’d be fired soon, what with the restructuring, but never really thought it would happen. nor did i imagine that we would be told that we almost did in fact lose our jobs.

so i have to wonder what the point of the letter really was. has anyone else received a “you almost lost your job but you didn’t, now will you please stay with us” letter before? do i thank someone? should i be happy? should i work harder? where do i go from here? should i email the dean and tell her that i found 2 spelling mistakes in the letter and that she should really consider proofing the next time? how close was she from printing the pink variety of this letter? many questions.

you asked, i'll tell

right, so i know i said i’d get back to you about the date with hot chick last night. i know i’ve posted since and have tried to ignore your constant asking, so now i’ll let you have it. you’re lucky i got done with work earlier than expected today -

so i have 7 different emails asking how the date went with hot chick. who are these people? i started this blog yesterday for christ. 7 different people haven’t even visited my blog yet. i don’t even know 7 different people. hell, i’ve still yet to tell a single person that this blog exists! anyway, the date. i’ll be honest here (for real this time) – the date was a bit of a disappointment at first, but did manage to get better over time. i mean really though, maybe i didn’t have enough time to get excited for it. not enough time to worry or get nervous for it. not enough time to remember that i should have brushed my teeth before leaving the house.

i have to tell you though, she was some excited, you should have seen the smile on her face when i picked her up in my ride (for those of you who don’t know me, i have a sweet ride, to be described in detail later). she was a bit giddy at first, i think she could tell i was rich and was going to take her to some really expensive place that she had only heard about but could never afford. imagine her surprise when we pulled into the ihop in brighton (or is that watertown, or newton maybe? – the one way out there near allston). anyway, i had never been to an ihop....ever. – i never did the nightclub scene in college, which apparently is why i’ve never been. the college roommates of mine used to come home at 4am sunday mornings after clubbing and ihopping, only to puke the pancakes they just ate, this is my only experience with ihop. i don’t tell my hot date about this. i don’t want her to be turned off about any part of our first date, you know? so we sit down in one of those plastic seat booth tables they’ve got and i swear to god she farted when she went to sit down. i know it wasn’t her body rubbing against the plastic cushion seat because she immediately looked at me with those holy-shit-i-can’t-believe-i-just-did-that-will-you-still-pay-for-me-tonight kind of looks. i just smiled and told her i thought it was kind of funny. i told her that i didn’t even think girls could fart, i didn’t think they could do that, and that if they did they probably smelled like flowers or something. moments later it was confirmed that when a lady (at least this lady) farts they do not in fact smell like roses. but she was still hot, the stank did not take away from her hotness.

we talked about what you would usually talk about on a first date. i told her i like to do some things, she told me she likes those things sometimes, i told her we should do those things together sometime, she said that sometime would be a good time to do those things together.

then we ate.

then we were done.

yes, i did pay for her. she insisted i pay.

i didn’t have anything planned for after the dinner bit, me not being the one who really thought of this date in the first place. i thought maybe we should go for a walk along the charles, it being a nice warm night and all. she said that would be “grand.” upon hearing this i just drove her straight home, not being one who ever likes hearing people use the word grand. she got all “i didn’t know that though, how could i have known that?” – but in the really soft and sexy i’m-so-sorry-didn’t-you-notice-i’m-really-hot-and-doesn’t-that-make-up-for-what-i-said kind of voices. once i got close to her house though i sort of understood where she was coming from. that or it was how i noticed she kept on adjusting her breasts every 5 seconds. adjusting as in she went beyond the word cleavage, but just before the word that describes a fully exposed breast.

so she said she was sorry about saying grand, and started to get out of the car when i played hard to get with the boobs onslaught. but then she got back in and asked if she could at least have a kiss. i just sort of panicked and sat there looking at her, the word “yes” or “no” not coming to mind as fast as they should have. i finally managed to say sure, but just a quickie. i told her if i tasted any of that nasty bacon she ate on her lips that it would be the last straw. she laughed at this, but i was for real. turns out her lips still had syrup on them, which was kind of a cool experience and i told her that afterwards.

so the sex was pretty good. i know you want details so here they are: sex with the hot girl was like, pretty good.

there you have it, every last detail of my date last night. hot girl, i’ll be seeing you again soon i hope.

summer of beer gets off to a bad start

smoking body. smoking body as in a smoking body. i don’t know how else to describe it. just plain smoking.

i walk into this local bar. its wednesday night after a rough day of work. i never go out on wednesday. hell, i never really go out. but i’m out. and its wednesday. and its like 6:30pm. its hot out, like stinking hot out. and its the first really hot day of the year. i’m thirsty as hell and i’ve got like 2 hours to kill before my date with hot chick. so really this is a big night for me, what with going to the bar now and going out later with hot chick. and if you count the date on sunday night then this is a big week of going out for me.

so i’m walking into this bar all thirsy and hot as hell. i’m approaching the bar and i see the bartender. holy smoking i think. this girl is just smoking hot, but i said that already once. i’m trying to play it cool as i walk up to the bar. you know the drill – looking around, not paying any attention to her, as if you’ve been there a million times before (when really its your first time), kind of sticking your chest out, got the questionable eyes kind of scoping the place out – the usual. she walks up to me at the bar, maybe because i’m the only one there cause its early, and maybe because i’ve been there like 10 minutes now just looking like a retard. so she’s walk up to me – the white t-shirt that is just bleach white, but the kind of white that you can sort of see-through, short enough to ride about 3 inches off the waist and a little tight just about everywhere. its a casual bar so she’s got the tan shorts on, the kind that look like the color of your skin when you have a really nice tan going on, which she happens to have. she’s got on the sandals. and as for everything else – she doesn’t look to be wearing much jewelry and probably no make-up, the hair is light blond pulled back in a ponytail and her body, well, it was just smokin.

right, so she has now made her final approach and she’s standing right in front of me. i don’t order beer that much, but you would think i’d recall at least the name of a beer to order at this point. i don’t. i’m not kidding. i’m sitting there like a frigging retard. this is the summer of beer for me, the summer i start drinking again, the first night back on the booze and i can’t recall a single name of a beer to save my life. the smoking body has disrupted my entire brain and the only thing i remember is to look like a retard for the next 10 seconds. what doesn’t help me at this point. what doesn’t help me is that there isn’t a tap anywhere near me. what doesn’t help me is that i can’t see a single beer sign in the entire place. what doesn’t help me is that nobody else is sitting at the bar with a beer in front of them for me to look at. i’ve got all signs of retard pointing right at me as i search my brain for a name. then i remember that i used to like i.p.a.’s. jackpot! so i tell her i’ll have whatever i.p.a. they carry as i wipe the buckets of sweat off my forehead. disaster averted. she’s grabbing the glass and i hear her say something to me. i think to myself that i must be in heaven, she’s talking to me! she’s asking me a question! this smoking chick is right at this moment asking me a question! life does not get any better. it just gets a lot worse – turns out what she was asking was if i had an id. this doesn’t seem like a big deal all of a sudden and i’m kind of let down. my dreams are shattered as i reach for the wallet. but i keep reaching and sticking my hand all the way down my fucking empty wallet-less pocket. the beer has been poured at this point and it sits there about 12 inches away from me on the counter in front of her as she waits for my id. i’ve got this creeping smile on my face, the kind that says oh-god-please-you-know-i’m-21-and-you’ll-never-believe-it-but-i-forgot-my-wallet kind of face. she’s just as clueless as i am at this point. i mean, she knows i’m 21, she just has to card me anyway. and she doesn’t want to be put in an uncomfortable situation of denying me the beer after she’s poured it and its sitting right there sweat rolling down the side and everything. but she goes there. she smiles and as soon as she does i can’t hear a word she says. i’m looking at the smile and i just can’t for the life of me understand anything else at that moment. i see that her lips are moving but no words are registering with me. the smile has me fixated. then she has stopped talking and puts on the face where she just formed a question she wants answered. so now i answer her question that i never heard one word of – “uh, i guess i’ll have a coke then.” this was clearly not the right answer. i know it wasn’t the right answer because her face went from smiling to confused concern almost immediately. and she just continues to stand there waiting for the right answer to her question. after she waits long enough to realize i didn’t hear a word she spoke she comes out with the following: “i said i would give you the beer anyway if you could tell me your birth date and what year you graduated from high school. i mean, i can tell you’re 21, i just have to at least pretend like i’ve tried. you are 21, right?” um right, so she didn’t just ask me if i wanted anything else, and i just happened to pick the one thing that could make me look even stupider. a total fucking moron is me. i think for about 1 second if i should try to explain to her that i was briefly mesmerized by her smoking body as she asked me the question, but i had already looked bad enough trying to tell her i forgot my wallet and wanted a coke instead of knowing what my birth date was. i was in the hole already and didn’t want to dig further.

i mean come on, do women ever understand these kind of situations? don’t they realize that their beauty has a profound affect on the way we speak and act? don’t they know that if they have a really smoking body and unbelievable smiles that we’ll never be able to form a sentence when they speak to us? somebody needs to tell them this! give us a break already! you know we’re mystified because of your beauty now just pretend you don’t notice! give yourself a little smile or laugh inside and keep talking to us regular on the outside. we’ll eventually be able to catch on and form complete sentences again. in like an hour.

fortunately she just slides the beer across the counter and walks away, no idea what the expression was on her face.

you’ve never seen a beer drunk faster than the one in front of me. i finished it in lighting speed, not the kind of first beer of the summer kind of drink i was looking for, and headed out the door after leaving a bill on the counter (i carry my money in a money clip, not in the forgotten wallet). not quite as peaceful and relaxing as i had hoped for, but then again i had my date with hot chick coming up in less than 2 hours. all hope for a good night was not lost.

deck parties

i’m at a deck party this past weekend down in south boston. lots of people. lots of hooch. if you don’t know what hooch is then it should stay that way, trust me. you’ll live longer if i don’t tell you.

so we’re drinking the hooch like its going to be gone any second. we’re all getting pretty sloshed and starting to know it. the night gets colder and we just get warmer from the hooch. the jug band rocks on and forgets to take a break.

a few minutes after who knows when this couple walks in. i know this couple, but not that great. what i mean is that i see this couple at every party i go to, including parties at my house. so maybe i’ve been at like 10 parties where this couple has been in attendance. this couple is a pretty cool couple, i mean, from what i can tell. what what i can tell they’re pretty funny and just have a good time together like all the time. from what i can tell.

so have you ever been in a situation where you forgot to introduce yourself or perhaps were forgotten when introductions went around? that’s what happened with this couple. i forgot to introduce myself. that or someone forgot to introduce me. but it was so long ago that i can’t remember, and i doubt they can either. so every party that we see each other at goes kind of like this when they get near me:

them: “oh hi katie! its so good to see you, oh my god!” – while giving big hugs

me, i just take a big drink of the hooch and kind of turn the other way or just stand there smiling and watching the conversation.

them: “oh my look there’s dan, lets go say hi to dan.”

i now just tend to think in my head about how this ever came to be and can’t we just find a way around this already.

later on in the night (as always) i find myself in a position where we’re all of a sudden standing next to each other with nobody else around. also, the music just stopped. its quiet and all you can hear are other people talking and having a good time just a few steps away. always this happens. every fucking party. so we just stand there drinking way more hooch than we should be in any given minute, praying that someone will wander by and save us.

i mean really? how much more awkward could this be? and what the frig do we do to fix it? we’re way past the “by the way we’ve never really met.” and now its just too weird to try and start a conversation and go from there, i mean we both know what’s going on here. what’s even more annoying is that all my other good friends at the party know these people and get along just great. obviously they were introduced properly like 10 parties ago.

i think my best bet is that i stand next to one of my friends and they talk to this couple with me trying to throw something into the conversation once in a while. lord help me if my friend actually just gets up and leaves me there with them. perhaps i should tell my friends about this plan, let them acclimate me to this couple bit by bit at each new party. yeah, that might work. wish me luck.

advanced flirting techniques

it's wednesday and i'm going on my second date of the week (if sunday counted as this week). no lie. this way hot chick here at work just comes and sits down next to me at a staff "end of year celebration" lunch. there are a million seats to take, she picks the one next to me. ok, that may be a lie - it was the only seat available. so i use my usual finesse that i like to pour on when the time is right, this immediately has her hooked.

me: "so, you're pretty hot"

hot chick (laughing, almost spitting out her water): "maybe, i don't know"

me: "um, yeah, so like i was saying, you're pretty hot"

hot chick (flirting eyes kick in here): "didn't we just go over this?"

me: "yeah, sorry. listen, i'm not good at the small talk so you'll have to supply the filler here"

hot chick: "you know nobody has ever been this quite this blunt before, if this is your flirting strategy it might have just worked"

me (playing hard to get, as usual): "if i was trying to flirt i wouldn’t have said something so stupid - no matter if it's true"

hot chick: "are you saying you're not interested in me?.....ok, well how about this, i'd like to go out with you.....tonight. say no and i'll believe you, say yes and i'm a happy girl"

i think we all know what happened next. something about me saying sure and her wetting her pants over the idea of going out with me later tonight. so there we have it, date # 2 of the week. i don't think my date from sunday night will mind - she said that if i somehow mention her on my first post of this site she'll go on a second date with me (seriously, she said this to me). so here you go kristen, how about friday night, does friday night work for you? Don’t get mad at me for seeing this hot chick, it was not my idea.

word, i'll let you know how the date goes. but if she turns into another one of those chicks who just wants me for my body i'm out.