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I got my ability to drink from being part Irish.   My ability to drink to excess came from my Native American part.  The two work hand in hand to ensure I’m numb most of the time.

The house next to mine has been empty for about a year.  A few weeks ago, about 1000 Irish boys moved in.   They are all 20 somethings and I’ve yet to figure out what they are doing.  I suspect that they are a soccer team but as long as they keep prancing in the front window with their shirts off, I don’t give a shit what they are.

I’m spending the day watching the flowers grow.

Pissy queens.   Was hit up online by a guy who asked if I was in SF.   I said yes and he said “Are you a top with a big cock to service?”  I responded that we were not a match and he spat back, “oh, and how may I ask that you know that?”  and before I could answer “oh wait, nevermind. I’ll gladly accept the rejection . Good Day.”

Sheesh.

I’m not going to tell you my name.   Or give you my phone number or email.  Or submit to an interview.  Or cooperate with the police.   It’s just not going to happen.     You don’t need to know it.

Today I was browsing the net working on the macbook that I bought from my dealer because the one I had for work got stolen for the second time because I hooked up on the internet with some sketchy mother fucker who heisted it.  What a douche.   Anyway, I was looking at anti-virus and ran across one called Thor.    Now the fuck-tards at Thor thought it would be a good idea to outright plagiarize the content from Avast software.   Fucking word for word.   Has no one any self-respect or creativity?  Sheesh.

The tale is really told when looking at the App Store page.

It’s clear the only complete sentences she can write are those that she lifted from the Avast site:

 

 

The only thing she didn’t plagiarize is the 400+ million customers, 186 countries and the 43 languages.  I bet I can figure out why.

 

 

My roommate is constantly convinced that we have been broken into. I regularly get texts about this missing I’m missing or that missing and about the door being unlocked. Today was no exception. Today it was the unlocked deadbolt. He was sure he locked it at 715 when he left and was I at work?

Paranoia.   A direct consequence of using as much speed as he does.

I promise this blog isn’t going to be a bitch-fest about my roommate.  And I promise that it will become more interesting.    Some of the shit that happens to me is so bizarre that it can’t be made up.   Stories of lies, deception, hookers, thieves, drug dealers and incredible acts of sexual craziness await.  And….. maybe a monkey or two here and there.

Had a real haircut today. It’s been years since I’ve gotten it cut by anyone else but myself. Had an awesome student cut it who I think will be a regular. When I went to pay, the bill was $10 but my card couldn’t handle it. How fucking embarrassing. I ended up giving them $5 in quarters and the card handled the other $5.

Last night Darren came over with $500 worth of toys that were on clearance at the drugstore. He wanted to list them on Amazon so we sat up until 2am bothering the neighbors as we listed the shit. We’re supposed to be emptying his place, but each time we do he ends up buying more shit.

Still haven’t talked to Beavis. He sent me a lame ass text yesterday letting me know that if I wanted to talk that he’d be in the backyard. When I didn’t respond, he retracted. Typical. He doesn’t know yet that I’ve alerted the landlord that he gave his notice on the apartment and asked that he not give him the ability to retract this time.

 

First in last out. That was my day today. And yet I feel like everybody else if the credit. I’m long past the days of being the golden child and I realize that the pattern has nothing to do with me. But occasionally, a tiny bit of recognition and go along way.

My roommate is moving out. Because I left the The spoon in the sugar bowl , something I had to find out from the past drug dealer that happened to be at the house when I got home fucking some small tweak . He had gone to the hospital and left them in the house.

This is the fourth time he has threatened to move out. It will be his last.  You see the way I look at it is that it’s my sugar bowl it’s my spoon and my sugar. I should decide whether or not there is a spoon or not. And if it is such a big deal then why doesn’t he just asked me to not do it?  I’m choosing not to engage.