Thursday, March 31, 2005
| LOOK WHO IT IS! JOE! Well Thank God! You have no idea. I was totally abducted by a raving band of lesbian transsexuals. They grabbed me while I was sitting in Central Park lambasting gender re-assignment surgery. Ok, this is going absolutely nowhere and it’s obviously a lie. I just really wanted to use the word lambasting. I’ll lambaste you mother fucker. In any case, I’m back now. It took me a little while to adjust to Ari’s departure, but I think I’m getting a grip on my new job responsibilities and the fact that I’ll be lonely during most of my days. It wouldn’t have been such a huge blow to my psyche if we hadn’t worked, conjoined at the hip, for the last four years. But alas, she had to move on and I have to sit in my own pile of steaming shit for a little while longer. Let’s see…what’s in the news? I have found a therapist that I like. Well, not really. I have found a network of therapists that I like. I get assigned to my actual therapist next week. But the organization seems really professional and I felt very comfortable while at my appointment last night. In fact, when the appointment was over, I said to the interviewer “Is it totally weird that I feel as though I’m about to cry?” Interviewer lady responds with “No Joe, it’s absolutely normal. You’re a fag and fags cry at everything.” I smiled and walked out. A very pleasant experience. The other night I watched the premiere episode of America’s British knock-off The Office. I know I’m going to get lambasted (ha) for saying this, but I thought it was absolutely hilarious. I laughed out loud like a lot of times. I KNOW that if I had just watched the British version first, I wouldn’t be into this rip-off. But you know what? British people talk like everything they have to say is SOOOOOOOOOOO classy. I mean, here’s an example: “I’m British and I like to eat crumpets while I drink my English Breakfast tea”. See? TOTALLY pretentious. Whatever Ricky Gervais, I’m sticking with the new version and I’m gonna love it until I don’t love it anymore. And that’s really that. I came up with a very interesting question the other day. Well, maybe not so much interesting as lame, but you can judge for yourself. Here it is: Why when you’re playing a game with your best friends, will you do whatever it takes to be the winner? But when you’re running for your life, you always have to stop and help the friend that’s fallen down? Not that we’re running for our lives very often (well, maybe not you), but think about it. If I’m in the middle of a “Win, Lose, or Draw” game (which I obviously play every 30 minutes of my day), I would brutally cut your face (from mouth to ear) if you don’t understand that I’m drawing a panda riding a bicycle. But if I’m running away from an avalanche, why don’t I have the same desire to win the game of life? Why would I feel compelled to die trying to save your out of shape ass? I just don’t get it. Paul thinks the question is stupid, but then again Paul’s not very good at games. On the sexy front, I was on my way to therapy yesterday and as I was exiting the subway a group of gay guys (practically doing pirouettes) spotted me and began to walk behind me. At first I thought I was just paranoid and ignored them. But when I got lost and ended up walking in a complete circle, I saw that they were still behind me. I started to get flattered, but also a little freaked out. I mean, there had to be 5 or 6 guys in the bunch. So I stopped walking and stood on the corner smoking my cigarette. They stood about 6 feet behind me talking. When I crossed the street and they followed, I had had enough. I turned around and faced them and one of the guys said “HIYEEEE!” and I burst out laughing. “HIYEEEEEE!”, I responded and ran away as fast as possible. They were like the gay posse and I was so afraid they were going to give me an impromptu makeover and teach me how to exfoliate. My blackheads were quivering in their pores. Lastly, if you missed Lost last night then shame on you. SHAME ON YOU AND YOUR WHOLE FAMILY OF SHAMERS! Last night’s episode was, in my opinion, one of the best hours of television all season. Locke’s plot line was brilliant and the acting was so good I wanted to whip out my dick and leave a pool of cum on the television screen. Best of all was the directing which kept me glued to my seat throughout the entire episode. Once in awhile Lost gets a little under my skin because there is just SO much to learn and remember. But when an episode like last night keeps everything suspenseful and fast moving, I want to change my name to Lost. Lost CuttheShit. You understand. Ok, I guess that’s it for today. Thank my dick that tomorrow’s Friday. I’m about through with pretending that I’m enjoying this week. |
