Woo! I just received my settlement credit from the CD Antitrust Litigation lawsuit. It's only $13, but it's $13 I can flaunt in the faces of the record companies for charging such insanely high prices for cd's.
Here's an interesting question: If you were Jack Black, who would be your Kyle Gass? For me, it would have to be my buddy Franz at work. He's pretty low-key and doesn't say much, but he does laugh at all my jokes, even the incredibly lame ones. Now all he needs to do is learn how to play a mean acoustic guitar, and we'd be all set.
My hair seems to be growing at an exponential rate. I predict it will be past my shoulders by summertime. Right now it's at the point where it's too short to tie back, but too long to manage properly. Good, I say... let it flow where it may. Currently I've got this cool tragically hip rat-tail thing going, sort of like a cross between Terry Gilliam and Mickey Rourke from Spun. Work doesn't seem to approve, but then again they don't seem to approve of anything I do. Fuck 'em.
Anybody have any plans for Fat Tuesday? I had originally planned to visit my friend in Baton Rouge and experience Mardi Gras firsthand in New Orleans. Sadly, that didn't churn out, so here I am in this city with not much to do and even less to consider doing. Did I yet mention I need to move?
This is what works seems to be turning me into:
Gott in himmel, I also need a new job.
Here's an interesting question: If you were Jack Black, who would be your Kyle Gass? For me, it would have to be my buddy Franz at work. He's pretty low-key and doesn't say much, but he does laugh at all my jokes, even the incredibly lame ones. Now all he needs to do is learn how to play a mean acoustic guitar, and we'd be all set.
My hair seems to be growing at an exponential rate. I predict it will be past my shoulders by summertime. Right now it's at the point where it's too short to tie back, but too long to manage properly. Good, I say... let it flow where it may. Currently I've got this cool tragically hip rat-tail thing going, sort of like a cross between Terry Gilliam and Mickey Rourke from Spun. Work doesn't seem to approve, but then again they don't seem to approve of anything I do. Fuck 'em.
Anybody have any plans for Fat Tuesday? I had originally planned to visit my friend in Baton Rouge and experience Mardi Gras firsthand in New Orleans. Sadly, that didn't churn out, so here I am in this city with not much to do and even less to consider doing. Did I yet mention I need to move?
This is what works seems to be turning me into:
Gott in himmel, I also need a new job.
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