Because you won't watch a movie, unless I aprove it. Because you correspond your SG time with my schedule. Because your hanging on every word I say. Because you just don't feel complete, until you've read...
Steves Ghetto Ass Journal
Read it, or die trying.
NEWS
What news do I have, hmmmm let me see. Not much. Just that nearly everything in any possible category of my life has changed*. That's all.
Work
So, the 30th was my last night at work as a temp. In the middle of the afternoon, on what would have been my last day, I received a call from Fusun, the human resources chick, and she said they'd like to hire me on permanately. With a 15% raise. Those fucking morons.
Social Life
-Prom. I'm not ready for it, but I should be. It's this Saturday. My fantastic idea for a suit fell through, so I had to rent one. :sad face: But at least I get to see San Fran. :happy face:
More stuff. Brain not working. Blahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblah...
Wait, wha...
???
O, I'm totally married now. Fake married. EmilyRocks and I are married now. We have 4 kids. I'm not entirely sure of their names though. :confusededid face: One is Charlotte Ann, one is Roxanne, one is James, and the other is definately not Lucius Bob. We're going to breed them with EnfantTerribles kids. It'll be awesome.
Wow, I have so much news. But you don't get to hear it. My brain is killing me. No seriously. It has a knife. Somebody please call for help. Please?
PS I won't be on for a while. Sorry guys!
*"Fact" not verified
For Your Viewing Entertainment, Here's One From The Archives.
As outrageous as what you are about to read may seem, I assure you, it is true. I would NEVER lie to you.
(EDITORS NOTE: The previous two statements should be considered lies. Or half truths, at best.)
I sat around today, doing nothing. All in all, it turned out to be a complete waste of 24 hours. So, I'll mark that up in the success column.
At one point today, I was staring at an odd spot on the carpet, and contemplating its origins, when I happened to look over at Jake, our doggie. (See pics for more details) I noticed that Jake seemed to be contemplating the same spot. Or perhaps, it had meerly conjured up long forgotten memories. Whatever the case, the site of the offending spot filled my doggie with the urge to lick his balls. (Or, more accurately, the region where his balls once resided)
So now I was watching my dog lick himself. You know... Down there. To be polite, I decided I should probably look away. Before I had a chance to remove my gaze from him, however, Jake looked directly at me, and said, " Don't pick your nose."
I was taken aback. I hadn't been picking my nose at all. Whatever could he have been talking about.
And so I replied, "So, do you want me to kill my family, or something? Cus usually when a dog talks to you, it's the devil telling you to kill your family... or something."
"No," he responded, "I like OUR family. They feed me, and scratch behind my ears. Just don't pick your nose... Ok."
"Ummmmm... Ok.... But I wasn't picking my nose. I was just..."
"Listen," he interjected, "I'm not accusing you of picking your nose. I'm not even trying to incinuate that you do it habitually. I'm just trying to offer you some good advice. So don't pick your nose. And you should wait a half hour after eating before you you go swimming."
"Jeez, Jake. You sound like mom."
"Well, what do you expect. I follow her around all the time. It was bound to rub off."
I thought about this for a second. "Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Hey, do you think you could cook like her? Cus I'm pretty damn hungry."
"Steve... Look at me. I'm a dog. I have no opposable thumbs. How the hell do you expect me to cook? Shit, I lick my own balls. The concept of exquisite culinary treats is lost upon me. You want good motherly advice, I'm your dog. But if you'd like to know how edible a substance is, I fear I may be a bit too open minded for your taste,"
He had a point. My dog is really quite smart. For a dog, at least. "Ok, Jake. So maybe you can help me with this one. Where DID that spot on the rug come from?"
As jakes gaze slid across the floor, and came to rest upon the the stain, I noticed an odd glint in his eye. Was that how dogs smiled? Before I could come up with an answer, Jake had quickly snapped his eyeline back to myself. "Ahhh, yes. The stain. That, my friend, is a story for another time."
And with that, Jake returned to the task of cleansing his balls. Leaving me, once again, to stare at the lonely spot, on my parents carpet.
Steves Ghetto Ass Journal
Read it, or die trying.
NEWS
What news do I have, hmmmm let me see. Not much. Just that nearly everything in any possible category of my life has changed*. That's all.
Work
So, the 30th was my last night at work as a temp. In the middle of the afternoon, on what would have been my last day, I received a call from Fusun, the human resources chick, and she said they'd like to hire me on permanately. With a 15% raise. Those fucking morons.
Social Life
-Prom. I'm not ready for it, but I should be. It's this Saturday. My fantastic idea for a suit fell through, so I had to rent one. :sad face: But at least I get to see San Fran. :happy face:
More stuff. Brain not working. Blahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblah...
Wait, wha...
???
O, I'm totally married now. Fake married. EmilyRocks and I are married now. We have 4 kids. I'm not entirely sure of their names though. :confusededid face: One is Charlotte Ann, one is Roxanne, one is James, and the other is definately not Lucius Bob. We're going to breed them with EnfantTerribles kids. It'll be awesome.
Wow, I have so much news. But you don't get to hear it. My brain is killing me. No seriously. It has a knife. Somebody please call for help. Please?
PS I won't be on for a while. Sorry guys!
*"Fact" not verified
For Your Viewing Entertainment, Here's One From The Archives.
As outrageous as what you are about to read may seem, I assure you, it is true. I would NEVER lie to you.
(EDITORS NOTE: The previous two statements should be considered lies. Or half truths, at best.)
I sat around today, doing nothing. All in all, it turned out to be a complete waste of 24 hours. So, I'll mark that up in the success column.
At one point today, I was staring at an odd spot on the carpet, and contemplating its origins, when I happened to look over at Jake, our doggie. (See pics for more details) I noticed that Jake seemed to be contemplating the same spot. Or perhaps, it had meerly conjured up long forgotten memories. Whatever the case, the site of the offending spot filled my doggie with the urge to lick his balls. (Or, more accurately, the region where his balls once resided)
So now I was watching my dog lick himself. You know... Down there. To be polite, I decided I should probably look away. Before I had a chance to remove my gaze from him, however, Jake looked directly at me, and said, " Don't pick your nose."
I was taken aback. I hadn't been picking my nose at all. Whatever could he have been talking about.
And so I replied, "So, do you want me to kill my family, or something? Cus usually when a dog talks to you, it's the devil telling you to kill your family... or something."
"No," he responded, "I like OUR family. They feed me, and scratch behind my ears. Just don't pick your nose... Ok."
"Ummmmm... Ok.... But I wasn't picking my nose. I was just..."
"Listen," he interjected, "I'm not accusing you of picking your nose. I'm not even trying to incinuate that you do it habitually. I'm just trying to offer you some good advice. So don't pick your nose. And you should wait a half hour after eating before you you go swimming."
"Jeez, Jake. You sound like mom."
"Well, what do you expect. I follow her around all the time. It was bound to rub off."
I thought about this for a second. "Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Hey, do you think you could cook like her? Cus I'm pretty damn hungry."
"Steve... Look at me. I'm a dog. I have no opposable thumbs. How the hell do you expect me to cook? Shit, I lick my own balls. The concept of exquisite culinary treats is lost upon me. You want good motherly advice, I'm your dog. But if you'd like to know how edible a substance is, I fear I may be a bit too open minded for your taste,"
He had a point. My dog is really quite smart. For a dog, at least. "Ok, Jake. So maybe you can help me with this one. Where DID that spot on the rug come from?"
As jakes gaze slid across the floor, and came to rest upon the the stain, I noticed an odd glint in his eye. Was that how dogs smiled? Before I could come up with an answer, Jake had quickly snapped his eyeline back to myself. "Ahhh, yes. The stain. That, my friend, is a story for another time."
And with that, Jake returned to the task of cleansing his balls. Leaving me, once again, to stare at the lonely spot, on my parents carpet.
VIEW 25 of 37 COMMENTS
sarcasticmenace:
Tightrope!!! 
emilyrocks:
i did not forget your name. i forgot the name of that guy who bought me a beer at thee parkside.