Went to an office party last night. Had Huber's Spanish coffees and Papa Haydn's desserts. Got drunk for the first time in a while. Still was in bed by 10pm. I work on technology for a living but when I get home I don't want to deal with stuff when I'm off the clock. Right now I have an electronic thermostat on some sort of schedule derived from what I have no idea. Reprogramming it with six unlabeled buttons is something I can't wrap my brain around. So it'll hit 80 degrees at 4am, who cares? I have a nice laptop but I choose this old IBM ThinkPad to browse the web, post blogs, etc. Sometimes it works, sometimes it geeks out, and some times it shuts off. It's like the Millenium Falcon of laptops. That's a Star Wars reference. Ed Bradley from 60 Minutes passed away yesterday. His last words were "Wait a minute... I'm gonna die before Mike Wallace? This is bullshit!" Then he went peacefully. I know what you're thinking and I have a response... fuck paragraphs. I got breakfast this morning and talked myself into eating only the salad and not the Ultimate Cheeseburger I purchased in a moment of weakness. It's sitting there staring at me from across the kitchen table. Do you know what it's like to be alone in your kitchen typing on a blog while a cheeseburger keeps saying things like "eat me... I'm not that many calories... it's okay... you're just big boned...?" Of course you don't. I shouldn't know what it's like, but welcome to my world. A world where food talks to you, I guess. You should hear what the bottles of liquor have to say. I'm in my pajamas and I'm contemplating working in this outfit: an old Element hoodie and Jack Daniels print pajama pants and flip flops all day. I don't even want to comb my hair. I have to leave the house eventually, dammit. Working at Montego's (strip club where I sometimes DJ) tonight - 157th and Division - with my friend Ryan (bartender). Check it out, yo. And bring your dollar bills. If you're wondering what mp3 player that Fergie (slutalicious) and Pussycat Dolls (slutsalicious) are shamelessly product placing in their videos, it's the Samsung K5. I'd love to know what the compensation was for that. Therei is nothing sacred in music anymore. Or television for that matter. I used to get sick of the product placements in shows like 90210 but they're creeping into everything. They're going to start putting commercials inside of other commercials. They're going to open a Starbucks in a Starbucks. I've gotta go do something productive. goochout.

Britney breaks up with Federline via a text message on his Blackberry

Obviously he doesn't have Nextel, otherwise he probably wouldn't have gotten the message until Friday, if at all.

Received an email from a friend regarding the status of Jared Dullum, a fellow Franklin H.S. (Portland, OR) alum. Here's the latest off of google, an indictment filed in New Jersey in October (Adobe Reader required):

Click HERE to view the document.

Congratulations, Marty and Carly on their new baby boy born yesterday.

Happy birthday, Q-Ball. Or as I've known him since I was six: Ryan. He and I are working together at Montegto's (strip club) at 157th and Division this Friday from 8pm (He's bartending, I'm DJing) to close.

Sometimes when a cool comment is left, I'll repost it to the main blog page. Here's one in response to my poem (obviously):

Your poem is nice,
I really must say.
It gave me a smile,
It brightened my day.

You say you're a bachelor
and I must agree
But true love will soon find you -
this you will see.

Soon there will be someone new
in your bed.
She'll turn off HER lamp,
and kiss your big head. (????)

I think you will meet her
sooner than later.
She, too, will love sushi,
jack and darth vader.

You'll giggle for hours,
you'll watch your huge TV,
She'll cook you a nice dinner,
You'll fix her PC.

But how do you know, Jules?
What's the deal? Why?
The simple fact is, Gooch -
you're a nice guy.

Moved to East County early
in two thousand three

Ex Girlfriend decided our apartment
Didn't belong to me

A relationship ends
"Let's still be friends"

Woke up with morning Wood Village
So to a condo I moved
Unemployment soon proved

Imminent.

My employer's parting words:
"Let's still be friends"

A summer of like soon ensued
To Waitresses and bartender chicks
my eyes were glued

A bottle of Jack in my left hand
An unemployment check in my right
I got pretty drunk almost every night

Got a job as a bouncer
and a strip club announcer
All perks, no cash
Life in 97060:
The wind got blown
And so did I

Couldn't find a real job
so I made one up
Fixing computers
Next to a tattoo shop

Self employment
Has taken me pretty far
Just bought a TV
Cost more than my first car

People say I'm getting old
And should settle down
They're not scaring me
I'm too busy trying to keep up with my hero
Ron Jeremy

Single is nice
Jerking off is the biggest price
Wake up in the morning and tough decision:
Get a massage?
Watch a DVD of Entourage?
Make a collage? (wait... what the fuck? Nevermind)

I'd like to find a nice girl
To call mine
Or maybe find a rich girl
And cross the Feder
Line

I need a headache like I need a wife
One thing is obvious:

I'm a bachelor for life