It has been a month since I have updated this blog. A fucking month. I have no excuse. I have been neither too busy to post nor too un-busy to have anything worth posting. Here’s the run-down of things I did but can’t remember well enough to talk about:
- I’ve been to a party or two.
- Hooked up a chick I’ve been trying to hook up with for a good while.
- Watched a great UFC match with some friends.
- Purchased a male masturbator (more when I’ve given it a whirl).
- Had a “no-sober” weekend… that was rough. Can’t do that again.
- Have been setting up for a new “season” of 3 Guys.
- Got shot-down by an ugly chick.
- Cooked some great food.
Today is a day that should be perfect. It’s beautiful outside. The sun is out, the birds are chirping, it’s warm but not shitty-hot, and whatever pollen that has ruined my Spring experience isn’t present. I even woke up and got into work on time today, which I’ve been having problems with this month (another thing I blame the pollen for). Unfortunately, all of the good this day should entail is completely ruined. Some dick almost caused an accident on my way in, an idiot from another department can’t except that there’s a problem only she can fix, and to top it all off I’m stuck in one of the least productive web-meetings that I have even been a part of. It’s been 49 minutes now, and I’ve learned nothing. To the defense of the presenter, the main problem is that every manager pipes in after about three seconds to ask a question that some other manager already asked. What a fuck.
Anyway, I promised a lot of posts. Most of them are half-written. The main problem is that I’m just not a writer. I get by alright, but that’s because I’m a thinker and a check-your-work…er. It’s not really a big deal though, as this blog doesn’t get many daily hits. It’s really just for me. It’s borderline a LiveJournal. Clearly, this makes me a teenage emo chick. I wonder if that gives me an excuse to hang out with other teenage emo chicks.
Oh, and I need to read a book for work. I don’t need to, but it will look good if I do, and it’s supposed to be helpful. It’s a short book, so I should just knock that out this weekend. Poop. From a butt.
Fuck, this meeting sucks.