Tuesday, April 18, 2006:
8:15am: awaken in (presumably) the clothes in which I slept. It's daylight and I'm at home. I do the obligatory check out the window to make sure my car is in place (an observation I've had to make since the Subaru I drove in high school). All's well. I smell like an ashtray but not like strippers, which is good because I have a girlfriend now. Need to be a good boy.... fuck I'm nauseous.
8:30am: I know my friend Alicia needs a ride home from the auto detail shop and has been waiting for me for ten minutes, but I take the time to jerk off anyway. Gagging porn. Downloaded last week. Pretty good stuff. I fire off some knuckle babies into the nearest receptacle I can find (an empty wine glass - why don't I ever think about this important step prior to jerking off?).
8:53am: Get Alicia and her youngest son who resembles Cartman in so many ways and take them out for doughnuts. As I eat a cream filled I flash back to last night... I ate two double cheeseburgers from McDonald's on my way home from the bar.
Gooch.... you fat fuck.
9:14am: I decide to actually go to work today and hit the freeway. Get this: My friend Marty found one of my car alarm remotes while cleaning out his car. He saw my car ahead of him today, sped up to get close enough to me and started pushing buttons on the remote to fuck with my car. It didn't work, but mad props because it would have been funny as hell if it did.
9:38am: I get a call from a friend to whom I gave a Viagra for his, um, special weekend with his girlfriend. He had never taken vitamin V before and he bitched about the headache and the exacerbated hangovern- shit I forgot to mention. It did the job, though. It always does.
Sweet.
So now I sit in a semi cubicle. Greg needs to get his ass back here so we can eat. While I wait, here's the deal:
My Birthday "Party" is this Saturday:
Montego's Strip Club.
21 and over.
15826 SE Division - Portland
My shift starts at 8pm. Special girls have been ordered for the evening. I'll have the wireless mic, so I'll walk among you. Like Jesus, but with bad hair. Email with questions.
goochout.
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