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[23 May 2008|09:46am] |
Really wouldn't ask this if I had a choice. Woman across the hall isn't doing so good, Dad's having problems and I have no one to leave Tabs with while I plane-hop back to Kentucky.
Tabitha. Going to be a year on Tuesday. Kind of a hellion, but cute as all get out. My kid.
Anyone who doesn't have a police record willing to babysit?
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[13 Apr 2008|06:44pm] |
So apparently women who work the crazy-ass hours at this place are together often enough to sync up. That kind of syncing. Yeah, I didn't want to know either. How do I know? Number of bathroom breaks/need for me to cover phones just exponentially increased. Chances of finding crying women around the corner at their desks just shot up. Vending machines are out of chocolate and my ass is not currently bruised from being the only straight male PA around here. The red tide is fucking everywhere and I just hope my boss ain't headed that way because she's already a PMS-crazy bitch
I don't want to know this shit. I didn't have sisters, one place I don't go ever, not into kinky crap with that kind of thing, just plain fucking no. And apparently marketing is a really vagina-centric place to be because I get this crap and knowledge on how to deal with it. Did you other guys know that bananas are apparently good for cramps? Because there's a freaking post-it on a bunch of 'em in the break-room, with smiley faces as dotting the 'i's and telling everyone to 'help themselves, because they alleviate menstrual cramping'.
What. The. Fuck. Not information I want. Or need. There's a reason I don't do relationships that last long enough for her to ask all casual-like to pick up a box of tampons at the store.
Worst part is, they get militant with this crap. I get one more file slammed down on my desk with a face like a slapped ass, it's too fucking many. Getting bitched out for getting coffee in the morning, because I have a penis and have invaded their fucking space -- you're FEMALE. Get that shit chopped out if you don't want to deal with it, not my problem.
[Jess]
Yeah I realize I'm going to have to bone up on this stuff waay in the future-tense but it's still fucking gross.
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[24 Mar 2008|05:49pm] |
( Private: moment or two later, Jess can read )
Job ended. Decided they wanted a girl in a low-cut blouse to do the answering phones thing. Can't really blame them and all, I'd rather look at a pretty little thing filing her nails when I walk into a place.
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[16 Mar 2008|05:01pm] |
I get that women are getting their panties tied tight over not getting jack in the Presidential spot until lately, but seriously? Woman who looks like a bull-dog representing this country? Hell, even the black guy looks better! Anybody forgetting this is the woman who couldn't even keep her husband's attention off an aide? If you're not part of the men's club of politics, you sure better get them with hard-ons over the idea of making peace, and 'breaching new frontiers' with a female candidate, or else America is gonna be left out of the cigars and wine after dinner.
It's not all bad. Bush is stupider than shit and looks uglier than sin; get a pretty woman who doesn't know crap about the presidency, appoint her a couple of aids, and we're swimming. And tuning in to the State of the Union a damn sight more likely if there's a pretty gal with a little skirt on, instead of a Texan in a suit. South is mighty bad at producing governors who don't have scandals on their doorsteps, let alone handsome.
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[07 Mar 2008|02:09pm] |
( Private )
You know it's New York, when a guy's chatting up a girl on the subway and his lead-in line is 'I don't have an STD' and she's all, 'so Tuesday then?' Gotta say, stupid enough to not wear a raincoat when it's raining, deserve all the bad sex and herpes you can get but some conversations just take the damn fun out of things.
The old-fashioned way still works, though. Got a Saturday night with the cute brunette who sells my coffee on the way to work.
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[23 Feb 2008|04:54pm] |
Valentine's Day really is easy pickings. Far too many desperate women in New York, and happy to drop their panties for not much more than a malibu and coke, and the suggestion that, 'sure, honey! Next year we'll be sat at home celebrating our first year's anniversary'.
Which. Who the fuck does that? Hook up on V-day and call it an actual relationship. Those models in that thing on tv, all about the wives and girlfriends who they've been together a year with. Ain't you special, hooked up out of desperation and clung on tight for a whole twelve months.
Still. Anything's got to be better than Tale women. The lot of you are insane. I mean that with love but yeah, any guy's got to like the feeling of his balls in a vice if he's planning on dating any of the lot of you.
And what the fuck is up with the Jack jokes? Only good Jack comes served over glass in a tumbler. Who the hell is a sick enough puppy to get off on sending organs around? That's some deeply disturbing shit.
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| Hidden from Velvet |
[13 Feb 2008|09:22pm] |
Anyone out there Frenchified enough to speak the Froggy tongue?
Got a phrase in need of translating.
Souvenez-vous - j'étais le remède, vous étiez la maladie.
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[10 Feb 2008|03:25am] |
Holiday of pink and red. I think I'm going to sit this one out.
Easy, man, drinks on V-Day? Can compare battle stories and scope out the hot desperate chicks without dates
Unless. Jess, if you've got plans, I can handle Matty if you want?
Yep, it's official. I'm a changed man. No dates, foolish promises or roses on Valentine's Day. Saves me a fortune.
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[01 Feb 2008|04:50pm] |
Clearly I'm missing out. Did we decide to have a pissing contest about our shirtlessness?
For comparison's sakes. One of my exes was a photographer.
( Taped in )
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[27 Jan 2008|09:41pm] |
I found an apartment. Not big; it's in Little Italy; four flights of stairs up and no elevator. Looks like the woman who lives opposite is cat-free, despite being little and old. Well. Jess helped. She found it Put an offer in to rent.
Might be small; bedroom, kid's room study, bathroom, kitchen and a shoebox of a living room, but it'll be mine. Can make as much noise as I want, no roommates to worry about, and it's about an hour from college, thirty minutes on the subway so I can make it home, eat dinner, then head out.
Now I just got to find a job to make the rent. Not much call for horses round here.
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[23 Jan 2008|08:12pm] |
Sorry I am that this shindig has to end, but all parties have a home-time. Caden, hope you get a better roommate.
I'm hunting down a pad of my own, circumstances and all. Pentamerone's pretty but it's not really my style, sharing a place. So, y'all; want to help throw out some suggestions? Easy, you're supplying the beer to christen the damn place. Vel, got any ideas? Your office is awful pretty. Think you can come up with ideas to gussy up my new place?
[Jess]
Know of any neighbourhoods that have two bedroom apartments?
[...]
Got a photo.
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[12 Jan 2008|05:01pm] |
[Written in scoring script where the pen has nearly gone through the page with furious pressure]
Let's get it damn straight shall we, boys and girls? If anyone fucks me off in the next, oh, we'll give it two hours, just make it nice and lengthy for y'all, there will be painful pay-back.
Anyone who's not of the 'bitchy and clearly hormonal' persuasion - fact, no, we'll address it just to the guys; know of a bar within two minutes distance? I got some damage to cause.
Jess. Can we move that on up to after I'm done with spirits? Don't think you can get me better placed to do this shit.
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[08 Jan 2008|02:10pm] |
So I allow I was a mite surprised that y'all decided to abandon me to the injustices of the judicial system. The cops, they're the type my Momma would call damn Yankees, all fussy and no sense of proportion when it comes to carry-on. Turns out though, one of 'em had an interest in horses and when I could help out with that, I was right on my way.
Y'know it turns out when you move around a bit in this big old state, your mail collects itself up. Maybe the mail people are too damn lazy to get on with deliverin' or perhaps they're not as bright as Southern folks, because I've been settled at the Pentamerone for least long enough to get my stuff delivered, and I got myself a whole heap of pretty little letters in pastel colored envelopes.
Easy, you'd better invite yourself right over quick; some of these have perfume sprayed on em all the smells of the damn universe. This one right here is all over roses, and I bet no other man in polo gets this kind of admiration from the ladies. Why, these girls are writing me all the way from Kentucky near twice a week.
[Slight pause as he opens the envelope and actually reads the contents of the repeated missive. Inkblots]
Oh fuck.
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[03 Jan 2008|03:20pm] |
Hey Velvet? Or even Anser,
I might need bail. I might've got into a lick of trouble.
If I had I'd be at the police station. Waiting.
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[31 Dec 2007|08:35pm] |
Christmas with the family sucks, y'all. They want to promise me presents in the future 'when you've proved you've got your act together'. What is this 'prove'? They'll be dead in twenty years and it'll be mine anyway. Write me the fucking check and then I can get my own place and stop serving the yummy mommies at Starbucks. Although I would miss the prissy one who has a tall skinny latte, no foam. She's definitely had work done, and is happy to share....
Anyway to cut the crap, I'm back in the Pentamerone, and ready to party. Anyone crashing bars tonight?
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