Do I get my lap dance now?
I think I'll slip on down to the Oasis.
Why do people work, anyway? I hate working more than most
things, but yet, it occupies most of my time. I've
discovered my dream job. It's not to be a Roadie Chef,
although its in the general ballpark. I wanna have a
cooking show on the Food Network, and each week have a
guest host/celebrity help me out. And we'll just make
dinky little meals like some simple pasta and basil dish
and dessert or something, but there will be a celebrity on
with me. This way, I get all three of my happy-wishes: I
get to be a chef, I get to be famous, and I get to hang out
with celebrities. Way rad, huh? It's gotta be better than
the job I am currently occupied with. Being a public
servant sucks ass. Especially when the public is drunk.
And you have to wear khaki pants. Khaki pants.
Anyway, I'm part of a posse now and I think it's hip.
We're a handfull of kids who sit around, half baked, on the
WA State Ferries every morning at 7:45 a.m. and talk about
stupid stuff. Like seagulls stalking Jason and Amanda's
roomate's fat naked girlfriend. And commuter coffee and
its effects on Justin. And my lust for Amanda's annoying
ex-boyfriend. And how you can't make friends with Oreo
Current mood: wiped
Current music: Barenaked Ladies - Old Apartment
Current advice: If someone is offering you a breath mint,
it may not just be out of politeness, but in their own self-