Save Lando

nothing says ‘pimp’ near as much as when you’re rockin’ a “John Force” t-shirt. of course, i’m not sure i’m qualified to make any sort of redneck/distaste comments, as i’ve been sporting a “you handle my ass pennies everyday” t-shirt. k, back to the other guy though. i may not get alot of acton (or any really), but i’ll be quite ashamed if i werent to get more action than this busch beer swilling mountain man who visited my store last week. the shirt had to have been at least 15 years old, and looked every bit of it. keep in mind, this is coming from a man who wants to hold on to his clothes for dear life until they unravel on his person, but shouldnt you just go ahead and throw away shirts like that? he ended up paying me in change, and i felt bad that i was stealing money away from his ebay kenny bernstein t-shirt buyout.

it brought to mind an earlier conversation i was having (with a friend) about a mutual acquaintance, and me, mishearing ‘Homophobic’ for ‘Hobophobic’. BIG DIFFERENCE. and only a little confusing, as “can i stick my wang in your poop chute?” is 100% different than “got any food?” or “spare change, mister?”.

also, thanks Kelly and Andrea for inviting me to go drink this past weekend. even though i got the emails 4 days late, the thought is very much appreciated. and really, had i gotten the emails on time, i probably would have gotten dressed and ready, and sat around the house, fighting with myself to actually go. i would have eventually not gone, and tried to rationalize my crippling social fear, to myself and everyone else. way to go me! …sometimes i loathe myself.

but this isnt one of those moments. you know that woman i wrote about for valentines? well, im not really interested anymore. something about her isnt sitting right with me lately, and i just cant put my finger on it. oh sure, I’D LIKE TO PUT MY FINGER ON IT, but you know what i mean. i think. i hope. well, she came back into my place of employment, with her 12 year-old sister. she talked for a minute or two, then we had to settle up monetarily, and she bent down to sign some papers. he shirt kind came open, and there i am, staring right down it.

see, in my head, i’m screaming “DONT FUCKING STARE!”, but my body seemed paralyzed and i couldnt look away. paralyzed? maybe mesmerized is a better descript. yes, i was mesmerized, hypnotized by breasts. whats worse? the whole time, her little sister is staring at me, staring down her sisters shirt.

smooth Lando, very smooth.

the husband of my store’s owner had to go into the hospital for hernia pre-op surgery a few days ago. not knowing what the situation was, i had made a joke about him maybe needing major surgery concerning a vital organ. she quipped back ‘not again’ and gave me a look. all at once, stories from years back came to me. he had had a penile implant put in a few years back because he was having function problems. to me, thats hilarious. see, he’s a total dickhead and i hate him, so whenever he pisses me off, i sit back and think about how embarassed he would be if he knew that everyone working for him knew about his little problem.

so he goes into the hospital, and to is wifes amusement, has to have like ten physicals. half of them administered by women (which he had to completely despise). turns out, he doesnt have a hernia, he’s just having problems with his saline pouch for his implant. awesome.

probably time for him to buy a yacht to overcompensate. he was complaining about not having a boat he could, and i quote, ‘take a shower in’. the giant pontoon boat he has now only fits @ 30, and clearly, that will never be enough.

and i found out that my roomies baby’s momma slept with him again. oh sure, using that against me. how in the world can i compete with that? and before anyone says it, i’m not sleeping with him. i give it less than 6 months before he takes the plunge and settles down with a woman who lives to make him miserable. so, anyone need a roommate? i’m quiet, clean up after myself, and can cook. any takers?

yeah, didnt think so.

like you’re so much better than me for actually writing something.

a multitude of thoughts about this entry lately, and all of them out to lunch. surprise, surprise. i just hope that they’re not eating what i did for @2 meals this past week. refreshing vanilla mint crest toothpaste. if you havent tried it, go buy a tube. i normally dont find brushing my teeth to be horribly enjoyable tasks in the day, but this helps. it tastes like cake icing, and how could you not like that? my only problem with it is buying more, at frequent intervals because ‘i had a glass of water, i’d better go brush my teeth again’. the equivalent to toothpaste crack.

i’ve been through the ringer lately. functioning on minimal sleep and working extra hours just so i can afford to look this damn good. wait, i mean eat something other than ramen. taking ten months off didnt do anything for my bank account. i’m still attempting to bring it back up to its former glory, but feel that anytime in the near future, its impossible. the sleep thing was partially because my roommates child (with baby’s momma in tow) have visited a few nights in a row, staying super late. enough to make me nervous, like she’s making a play to leave Lando all alone in this apartment. living in fear of waking up every morning, completely screwed, like the burger king has visited my bed in the night (coincidence that she used to work for burger king? i think not).

mental note. way too many burger king references the past year. i think this one makes 4. strange considering i have eaten there once in the past 5 years.

topics i decided not to write about:

‘co-workers who spend more time on smoke breaks than they do working, and how i would kill them.’

‘why having a crush on a married co-worker is a very bad thing.’

‘nipples, nipples, nipples’

‘dear lord, i have no life and want to die (and blockbuster still wont stock the goddamned huckabees movie)’

‘the perils of having your new favorite swear word be “fucking christ” in an all born-again christian family setting.’