I seldom ever, ever talk about my real dating life (usually just bullshit about Ali Landry stalking me or some shit like that) but I actually took a girl out recently and upon returning to my house, I realized that I'd locked my house keys in the house. This resulted in me having to climb onto my patio and through my open window (this situation would not have boded well, should it have happened during the winter). A minor setback that could have been a lot worse. However, I thought I'd throw a little embarrassing tidbit about me out there because as the saying goes: Laugh and the world laughs at you.

I wasn't sure how the date went until she text messaged me after leaving, asking if I wanted to go out the next weekend. Text messaged me?

This is the first summer I've been single in six (6) years. I've never dated in the world of email, text messaging, websites, and other ecrap. I'm still trying to assimilate my love for technology with my apathy for dating. So far, my casual sex and porn have come from the same source: my bitchin' computer.

It's a strange world my friends. It's best when viewed through the eyes of a child. Maybe that's why I haven't dated anyone over 23 recently.

I gotta go... my future wife is being born right now.

Every time someone mentions coming over to the crib, it results in a three hour cleaning spree. That's where I'm at right now. While I clean, check this out:

NAPSTER BITS

Unless Jesus Christ himself is hired as a consultant, I'm not sure how Napster is going to resurrect themselves into prominence. Napster is owned by the Germans, who have historically pulled themselves out of bad public relations flaps. Regardless, Napster Bits has some good animation about the second coming of itself.

Charles Bronson: Dead at 81.

Chicago Sun-Times: Tough-guy actor Charles Bronson dies

Charles Bronson website

...blahblahblah...worked last night...blahblahblah...got drunk afterwards...blahblahblah...didn't get laid...blahblahblah...should've...blahblahblah...Chinese food at 4am...blahblahblah...woke up with heartburn...blahblahblah...woke up feeling okay...blahblahblah...watched Mystery Science Theater 3000...blahblahblah...going to do it all again tonight, yo...blahblahblah...It's 10:32...blahblahblah...time for a nap.

...blahblahblah...

CNN: Feds arrest teen in 'Blaster' Internet attack

REMEMBER, THE CAMERA ADDS 50 POUNDS.
GOOCHONLINE EXCLUSIVE (SORT OF)
CONTACT INFO:
Jeff Parson
603 8th Ave S.
Hopkins, Minnesota 55343 US

Actual quote from the CNN story linked at the top of this blog:

The site, which the FBI says used to list the code for at least one virus, appeared not to contain no content Friday.

A glimpse into my world (MSN).

Saw DFiVE9 tonight as it was YMiKE's last show. Good times. Drank a shitpot full of Coors Light, Jager, and one Red Bull and Vodka. Farewell, YMike. I won't view local music the same without you in it.

I'm drunk. Coors Lights were flowing tonight like the water they emulate.

20,000 hits. Yo.

I went right back into the gym after a week off due to illness. I was going to go light, but I said "fuck it, it's only been a week." I even did squats which resulted in a popping sound in my back that yielded some discomfort, but nothing to keep me from the rest of my workout.

This morning, I couldn't get out of bed - a situation compounded by the fact that I had to take a piss. I almost panicked... the only form of communication to the outside world was my laptop computer (my phones were all charging in their respective cradles away from my bedroom). I was going to blog a plea for help, or post the number of my friend with a key to my place. I finally fell out of bed and crawled to the bathroom. It was a portrait of courage as I pulled myself up by the counter.

Not only did I not win Oregon Lottery's Powerball last night, but not one single one of my numbers from all five of my picks came up last night. The odds of that happening are higher than winning, I think. It wasn't my lucky day. I feel like a Kennedy.

Shit... my back hurts. I'm going to have to start drinking EARLY tonight. Or today. Fuck it... I'll pour some Jack Daniels into my Cheerios.

There's a fine line between "good workout" and "holy fucking shit... call 911." I walk that line every day.

Current hit counter as I write this is . My own hits don't count. Whoever hits it, right-click on the counter, save the image, and email it to me. I had people do this when I hit 11111. I'm gonna pop Vicodin like they're Tic-Tacs today. I can't even concentrate.