|Flashbang to the nuts!!!|
For the last couple months I've been looking at my bank account in awe.
|This kind of awe.|
OK I promise that is the last animated pic I'll put up, at least for today.
Yes, I've found out that my income and my regular bills are about equal. Is this due to living slightly above my means. Probably. Oops. This means I do not have money for new clothing, and the hole in the crotch of my favorite jeans makes walking by elementary/primary schools a little awkward. It also means that my tires on my Fucking FJ Cruiser are so bald that if I were to take it into a tire shop they wouldn't let me drive on them.
Never mind, I actually have a warrant out for my arrest... who would have guessed. That is right ladies, I'm a wanted Criminal. Does that turn you ... what do you mean what for? It's evil, it's diabolical... it's an unpaid transit ticket.
So if I want to continue to be clothed, driving and out of jail (up here in Canada we don't fuck around with transit tickets) I need to find more money.
I've thought about doing this.
|But stale beer and rotting garbage reminds me of too many high school parties/girlfriends.|
It's kinda cool actually, I went back to the same company I worked for while I was going through school. They have a restaurant about 10 minutes away from my office, so instead of sitting in traffic for an hour and a half after work I'll be smiling, while swallowing my urge to kill the little snot nosed brats that cry when they drop their ice cream. I've learned though that as long as money is going into my pocket I can tolerate children. It's infinitely better than sitting in traffic.
However, this is also injecting me back into an industry rife with random hook ups and debauchery. Now I'm not going to lie and say "holy shit I work with some hotties." Cause lets me honest here. There is lazy eye crazy chick that was my shadow on my first day to make sure I still remember how to speak. (she was so crazy that I had a table tell me) Then there are the round ladies. How is it that you can have a job walking around carrying shit and still be fat? I understand you work in a place that serves food, but stop eating.
This brings me to my next point. There are some cute girls that work there. Like this girl we'll call her "Ride Home" (don't worry not nearly as provocative as it sounds.) She is cool, funny, good looking, smart enough to converse and curious enough that she picked my brain for a solid 30 minutes on the ride home. She also has these big doe eyes that I'm pretty sure I could get lost in. In a word I'm smitten.
"What the fuck is the problem Hero, MOWN the fuck up!" I can here Maxwell saying. I being the
Eight years isn't that much is it. Yes it is, especially when she just moved out of her parents place 2 weeks ago. FML. Why can't I meet a normal good looking chick that is my age? Fuck it I'd take marginally crazy and decent looking at this point.
Needless to say, I'll be busier than a 12 yr old tai boy at a priest convention, but it isn't permanent and I'm sure I'll have some decent stories to write about.