GPS tracking devices are the beginning of Big Brother. Be forewarned.
Don’t cc people who don’t need to be cc’d. Why is this concept so hard to grasp?
Generally speaking, those who work in the upper echelons of the money industry are the rats and roaches of humanity. Remember it.
I hate to go against my peeps, but watching "The Click List", Logo’s version of a Top 10 music video countdown, proves time and again to be a painful experience. Well, no, it’s a painfully laughable experience.
Take Brian Kent, for example. His dance pop ditty "I’m Not Crazy" features this cub (which is a nascent bear… which is a big, hairy gay guy…) disco-ing out with mildly attractive back up dancers executing recylcled Britney Spears moves. No, not crazy, nor much inspiring.
Then there’s chubby Indian chick Mona Chatterjee’s frenzied tribal house track, "Move With Me". Warbling away like a strangled chicken, Mona is seen featured in what is probably the apartment building her dad owns, in various Middle Eastern moo moos, striving for sexy, but not quite making it.
But at the number one spot for the past few weeks has been Keo Nozari’s George Michael-esque "Question of Monogamy", which certainly wins for making me laugh out loud with the its last lyrics, "If it’s a question of monogamy, [then in a quiet, conspiratorial tone] I don’t have…the answer." Attempting to have depth while showcasing a bevy of buff boys in his video, Keo is definitely an alluring number, if not all that revelatory.
What I will take, though, is Jonny McGovern’s "Something For the Fellas". Rife with drag queens, club boys, a black dance diva, and just unabashedly fun, I love it long time, and prefer its blatantly maxed out homo glamour drive over the aforementioned attempts at MTV copycats.
Have a bitchin’ weekend, bitches!
Lately, I’ve been wildly exhausted when I get home. More so even than usual. I do a few things, watch a bit of TV, then conk out well near 11:00. I don’t know if it’s because of the pace at work, old age, or both. Either way, it’s not the least bit intriguing, nor fun, and I’d kindly like it to pass.
Much like Rip Van Winkle waking up from his hundred years’ sleep, I felt reintroduced to the modern world upon activating my first cell phone this past Thursday. I added my MyFaves, sent a few racist texts, made a hilaaaarious video of myself, and took some flattering pictures. More fun than a barrel, for sure. I don’t quite know if I’ll get the knack of walking and talking at the same time, but I feel important while doing it, so I’m sure I’ll catch on. I also got the 400 texts for $4.99 a month deal, and have found that to be quite fun as well.
When an author is so descriptive that you actually believe what they’re writing, do you think it’s because they’ve actually lived through what they’re writing, even if it’s a work of fiction?
I want a mirrorball for my room.
Things have been crazy hectic at work for the past two weeks. I was the only person in my recruitment team at work, which meant I had to wear several hats, all while training a new staff member and being the person to whom everyone goes with their questions as always. There just hasn’t been a break.
There will most definitely be one this Friday, however, since I gots the day off, and plan to take advantage.
J. Co and I agreed that since returning from our respective vacations (during which we, of course, didn’t exercise for shit) have been out of sync, trying to get back into the habit of working out and eating right again. Thank the Baby Jesus for the Extreme Hot Rox which have made my paunch go down slightly, if not disappear altogether.
I want a mirrorball for my room.
At long last, J. Na Na Max Stylee leaps into the ’90s by purchasing his first cell phone. I’m not quite sure why I put it off for so long, but when one of those free offers from Cingular came in the mail, including a free Samsung picture phone, I says to myself, I says, "Now I can finally be connected to the world." I just can’t imagine myself walking down a busy street, yakking away all matter of personal details like most people do, but c’est la vie.
I should get it on Friday.
Good: I slept throughout the whole weekend.
Bad: It was quite boring.
Good: Sugar is proving a lot more affectionate nowadays.
Bad: It can be a bit annoying.
Good: I got an unexpected $100 back from my state tax refund.
Bad: I blew it all on food and drink and blow in a matter of days.
Good: I have next Friday off.
Bad: It’s not until next Friday.
In the grand tradition of traveling, I left at least one (1) item behind in SD: my Body Shop vitamin C facial cleanser. No matter, since it goes to my make-up-minded sister.
My post-travel funk will not be helped by limited funds for the next two weeks. J. Co is also out of town in Tennessee (?) for the next week, so Sugar is all over me like white on rice. Usually, she sleeps in J. Co’s room. But since she constantly needs to be around one of us, I get the honors this week. And when she wants out, believe me, she will wake me up circa 3:00 crying. And then start up again when she wants back into my room, clawing at the door like some miniature maniac. I plan to just sleep straight through this weekend.
I never understood why the people in fast food commercials were so much friendlier than the actual employees at fast food "restaurants" when I was younger.
I am hereby implementing Project Boyfriend. Details to follow.
On my last full day here, ev’rbody and I all went to Seaport Village to
take in the stank, yet beautiful Pacific Ocean waters, window shop at
the tourist trap shoppes, and take Ashley on the famous carousel there.
I
feel a lot of mixed emotions. I’d like to spend a little more time here
wandering around on my own, but I miss Sugar and J. Co (especially
Sugar; I keep thinking my niece is my cat, and start making the little
kissy noises you do to get the cat come to you). I don’t want to go
back to work, but miss my own room. And wish I could hang out more with
Veelishis and could have seen Juanita, but I’ve more or less gotten my
full of my fam for now.
My feet hurt like hell from all the
walking, I wasn’t an angel when it came to my consumption habits while
here, but the Hot Rox have kept me from ballooning, and I’m here
drinking on my last night even though I know I should never drink the
day before flying.
I hope I have something really great waiting for me when I get back home.
