Friday, January 17, 2003
Look at me writing at 12am on a Thursday night. I have such POWER when I have a computer in my room. Thank you mom. Thank you dad. You have given me a reason to sign online at midnight. Rock out.
Had a very good day today.
Work sucked big time. Have been so swamped and no one has given me a chance to breathe. If you see that I am working on 4 major projects, do you send me an email telling me to ask my co-workers for money for the housekeeper's shoes?
No, that really happened today.
"Joe, please send an email around asking the staff if they will contribute $10 to buy the housekeeper new shoes. She uses these shoes to walk around our building all day. I am a complete asshole." That's what my email said, promise!
So now...on my salary, which is pretty much laughable, I have to buy the housekeeper new shoes. Why doesn't my JOB buy her new shoes? Why do I have to do it? I don't know. But it makes me die laughing.
Just so you know...I'm not giving the $10. I'm giving $5, like the passive aggressive bitch I am.
Aside from that the work day sucked.
Afterwords, Rita and I met up with our friend Ian (formerly "Brian" in this journal) for drinks. It was quite fun and I realized how desperately I need friends. Such as Ian. As we know now, Rita is leaving in a month. Kelly works every night and soon Paul will too. I guess it's time for Joe Cut the Shit to branch out.
It had to happen at some point.
Ian was fun and I think all of us enjoyed being with him. Paul showed up and was a delight. He always adds a certain "randomness" to every situation, but it worked well. Rita and I came back to Queens and Ian and Paul walked to the subway together.
They probably fucked while waiting for the 9 train.
you know how it goes.
After getting home and me housing the rest of the box of wine, Rita gave me a Tarot card reading. I have been feeling exceptionally "hot" this week and I thought that it was the right time for me to hone in on my personal shit. Rita did the reading and it was right on!
I am not Wiccan and I don't summon the four corners (Menoh) when I do the Tarot. I believe in Jesus and I know I shouldn't be playing around in these "devil" games. (hee hee) (oh.)(stop with the parenthesis baby)(please stop calling me baby)
I do the Tarot because it gives me a chance to look at my life. And my deck is in tune. It knows whats up. I give readings to people sometimes and it just blows up! (I'm trying to be somebody I'm not)
My reading was right on and gave me a chance to analyze all of the different relationships I got working right now.
Rita, Kelly, Mariah, Paul, Ari, snorely mcsnores...you know. All the importants.
Want to hear the weirdest thing?
I have been telling everyone lately that I should "play the numbers". Monday night I was watching the local news when the lotterly numbers came on. It was the pick 5 and I guessed three of them. Do you know how hard that is? There is like a billion and one numbers! And I picked THREE of them!
and I am a gaylord right now.
But the point is this: I told Rita that I wanted to play the pick 3 lottery yesterday. I said about...well...3 times. I said: "Rita! I want to play the numbers 5-9-6!"
Tonight Rita tells me that the numbers were: "5-6-shumma shum". (whatever it wasnt a 9 so why should I care...)
If I had played....
If I had tuned in my abilities...
If I had trusted in myself...
I would have won money! You get some cash for guessing two out of three. Sure it may be 50 bucks and a handful of Twizzlers..but it's...CANDY! And we LOVECANDY!
I gotta sit with myself and figure out how to come up with my numbers. I have never bought a "Quickpick" lottery ticket before.
I picture me saying: "Can I pick some numbers?"
and them saying: "Wha?"
Me: "I want to pick some numbers for the pick 3."
Weird Indian man: "Whaaa?"
Me: "I feel hot. Can I pick some numbers?"
WIM: "Oh. What numbers would you whaaaa?"
Me: "Hot. Me. Numbers."
WIM: "Oh. 4-3-7.
Me: "No no no. You speak English? Phew. Can I play the pick 3 please? I would like to pick some..."
WIM: "Whaaaa?"
Me: "I hate you."
WIM: "Fuck you man!"
Me: "I could have won money, but you ruined it. You ruined my "hotness". My psychic "hotness".
WIM: Lame.
WIM: "And also get the fuck out."
---end scene---
So you see...
I am destined to not win the lottery. People make me crazy and eventually I will be agoraphobic. But my computer is not as cool as Sigourney's was. And Harry Connick Jr. has better things to do than stalk me....
So...
Cured.
I buy a lottery ticket tomorrow.
Wow. I'm done writing now.
Do any of you think I'm crazy? I went completely free verse tonight and now I feel like Joe Cut the Shit has maybe cut too much shit? Or maybe I am trying to give Christian Finnigan a run for his money....
Or maybe it would be absurd for me to think I could be Christian. Cuz I mean...he's FUNNY!
Or maybe I never thought about it until this minute.
Snores. I don't even have comments on my page. Who am I kidding?
Sweet dreams...
we hope
Had a very good day today.
Work sucked big time. Have been so swamped and no one has given me a chance to breathe. If you see that I am working on 4 major projects, do you send me an email telling me to ask my co-workers for money for the housekeeper's shoes?
No, that really happened today.
"Joe, please send an email around asking the staff if they will contribute $10 to buy the housekeeper new shoes. She uses these shoes to walk around our building all day. I am a complete asshole." That's what my email said, promise!
So now...on my salary, which is pretty much laughable, I have to buy the housekeeper new shoes. Why doesn't my JOB buy her new shoes? Why do I have to do it? I don't know. But it makes me die laughing.
Just so you know...I'm not giving the $10. I'm giving $5, like the passive aggressive bitch I am.
Aside from that the work day sucked.
Afterwords, Rita and I met up with our friend Ian (formerly "Brian" in this journal) for drinks. It was quite fun and I realized how desperately I need friends. Such as Ian. As we know now, Rita is leaving in a month. Kelly works every night and soon Paul will too. I guess it's time for Joe Cut the Shit to branch out.
It had to happen at some point.
Ian was fun and I think all of us enjoyed being with him. Paul showed up and was a delight. He always adds a certain "randomness" to every situation, but it worked well. Rita and I came back to Queens and Ian and Paul walked to the subway together.
They probably fucked while waiting for the 9 train.
you know how it goes.
After getting home and me housing the rest of the box of wine, Rita gave me a Tarot card reading. I have been feeling exceptionally "hot" this week and I thought that it was the right time for me to hone in on my personal shit. Rita did the reading and it was right on!
I am not Wiccan and I don't summon the four corners (Menoh) when I do the Tarot. I believe in Jesus and I know I shouldn't be playing around in these "devil" games. (hee hee) (oh.)(stop with the parenthesis baby)(please stop calling me baby)
I do the Tarot because it gives me a chance to look at my life. And my deck is in tune. It knows whats up. I give readings to people sometimes and it just blows up! (I'm trying to be somebody I'm not)
My reading was right on and gave me a chance to analyze all of the different relationships I got working right now.
Rita, Kelly, Mariah, Paul, Ari, snorely mcsnores...you know. All the importants.
Want to hear the weirdest thing?
I have been telling everyone lately that I should "play the numbers". Monday night I was watching the local news when the lotterly numbers came on. It was the pick 5 and I guessed three of them. Do you know how hard that is? There is like a billion and one numbers! And I picked THREE of them!
and I am a gaylord right now.
But the point is this: I told Rita that I wanted to play the pick 3 lottery yesterday. I said about...well...3 times. I said: "Rita! I want to play the numbers 5-9-6!"
Tonight Rita tells me that the numbers were: "5-6-shumma shum". (whatever it wasnt a 9 so why should I care...)
If I had played....
If I had tuned in my abilities...
If I had trusted in myself...
I would have won money! You get some cash for guessing two out of three. Sure it may be 50 bucks and a handful of Twizzlers..but it's...CANDY! And we LOVECANDY!
I gotta sit with myself and figure out how to come up with my numbers. I have never bought a "Quickpick" lottery ticket before.
I picture me saying: "Can I pick some numbers?"
and them saying: "Wha?"
Me: "I want to pick some numbers for the pick 3."
Weird Indian man: "Whaaa?"
Me: "I feel hot. Can I pick some numbers?"
WIM: "Oh. What numbers would you whaaaa?"
Me: "Hot. Me. Numbers."
WIM: "Oh. 4-3-7.
Me: "No no no. You speak English? Phew. Can I play the pick 3 please? I would like to pick some..."
WIM: "Whaaaa?"
Me: "I hate you."
WIM: "Fuck you man!"
Me: "I could have won money, but you ruined it. You ruined my "hotness". My psychic "hotness".
WIM: Lame.
WIM: "And also get the fuck out."
---end scene---
So you see...
I am destined to not win the lottery. People make me crazy and eventually I will be agoraphobic. But my computer is not as cool as Sigourney's was. And Harry Connick Jr. has better things to do than stalk me....
So...
Cured.
I buy a lottery ticket tomorrow.
Wow. I'm done writing now.
Do any of you think I'm crazy? I went completely free verse tonight and now I feel like Joe Cut the Shit has maybe cut too much shit? Or maybe I am trying to give Christian Finnigan a run for his money....
Or maybe it would be absurd for me to think I could be Christian. Cuz I mean...he's FUNNY!
Or maybe I never thought about it until this minute.
Snores. I don't even have comments on my page. Who am I kidding?
Sweet dreams...
we hope
