Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Anyway, one day I ordered the chicken nuggets from the cafeteria. The new guy likes to eat healthy stuff and hasonly eaten at the cafeteria once. So I showed him my nuggets (!) and he jokingly mentioned that I should save him one. Not wanting to disappoint him, guess what was sitting on his desk when he got in the next morning? Guess what was in my office the morning after that? So we have this "pass the nugget" thing going on. Apparently it's in my office now but I haven't been able to find it yet.
Last night I had a box and a half of mac and cheese. My body doesn't handle cheese well, even if it's fake cheese, especially when it's covering a pound and a half of macaroni. I was experiencing (and self regulating) some serious gas this morning in my office when the new guy stuck his head in the door, sniffing. "It smells like five day old chicken nugget in here!", referencing our ongoing game. But then his face changed. I didn't have to tell him it wasn't a chicken nugget smell that he was forcibly feeding his nose.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
This was after three flushes. I thought my shits were spectacular, but this takes the cake.
At the store, buying said beer, eight 30-packs (because that's all my Jeep will hold)...
Me: Just buying in bulk, saving on gas.
Me, thinking: I'm an alcoholic, what the fuck do you care? Want to go out tonight? Or come over to my house since I have all this beer? And get naked? My penis my or may not be operational, you know, being a Saturday and all.
Guy behind me in line: Are you expecting the apocalypse?
Me: No, this is actually a small purchase.
Me, thinking: I usually call ahead of time and they wheel out 30 30-packs for me. Don't give me shit because you have to go back home to your wife and kids, Mr. I have Pampers and tampons in my cart. Asshole.
And now I'm stuck watching HGTV bathroom projects when my bathroom might be 20 square feet (basically enough room for shitting).
Friday, September 23, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
But could you imagine if I wasn’t on work time? I probably could have gotten one of her friends to join us in some hot, steamy, mid-afternoon three-way action! Mid-afternoon sex is always great, feels a little naughty like you should be doing something productive, wouldn’t you agree? And a three-way? I think, maybe, yeah maybe that would be a first for me.
And could you imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t been a pussy and kindly declined her offer of a hug (which is what really happened)? I swear, God, I appreciate you throwing me a bone every once in a while, but I think Your selection and timing are just a bit off.
[Apparently the Paul Mitchell Academy was at the Grand Avenue Mall today and their students were giving out free hugs. When I got back to the office I quickly looked it up and found video clips of rather stunning women giving hugs on the streets of downtown Milwaukee. And I get a Sasquatch (shaking my fist at the sky).]
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Last weekend we changed it up a bit, going out for the Badgers game (who gets ESPN 3?) on Saturday for beers while the ladies went shopping and stayed at my house on Sunday for the NFL action. It all started around noon on Sunday with the Packers falling down 0-13 in the first. They managed to turn that around for their second win of the season, thank goodness. Oh, and the Renter made some mad steak fa-gina's as we call them over here.
I personally managed to get a little positive action (thank you Packers lack of defense/ability to score, and how could I go against Tom Brady?), and turned a number of beers upside down. I think I polished off 27, but the over/under on that is still to be determined. The truth might never come out, thanks to not one but two conspiracy theories.
I paid for it on Monday. I had a friend's grandmother's funeral to attend Monday morning. I'm not sure if it was the funeral or the beer but I was noticebly sweating for no other reason. I could have just sent flowers but like I told my friend, attending was cheaper. And more personable, that's the main point, right?
After that I don't think I peed all day. I was in a funk all day/night, opting to lie in bed after work instead of lifting weights. I couldn't even crack open a beer during Monday Night Football. I stuck with water and my banky, curled up on the recliner with the puppy.
Unfortunately, I think this Monday night ritual might continue as I'm getting older. Guess you have to take a night off the sauce every once in a while, right?
If you're a pussy, that is!
Fuck, if my life is comingto this...
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Over the weekend I started to put a pillow under my arm to protect it from the metal chairs on the deck. I figured the many, many hours that I spend outside watching TV and drinking, sitting in the same chair with metal armrests was irritating a nerve or tendon in my elbow. After a weekend of this "treatment" it started to feel better. I even had the Renter perform some secret Asian message techniques that also seemed to help.
But then, after lifting weights on Monday, it hurt just the same as the previous week. My workout on Monday was just bench press, incline pushups and situps so I didn't really do anything to agrivate it. At that point I started thinking about making a doctor appointment.
Tuesday I went downstairs to lift weights with a little trepidation. It was back and biceps day which really puts stress on the elbow. I started with the normal pre-workout routine - that being playing with my penis while watching porn on my phone to get the blood pumping a bit. This would be totally wrong if I worked out at a club, but in the privacy of my basement, I don't see anything wrong with it.
I've been doing the whole self pleasuring thing pretty much every day since the summer of sixth grade. I'm surprised the little guy hasn't gotten fed up with me and gone on strike by now. Lately it's been four times a week before I lift weights. But, in the past 21 years, I've developed "my" perfect position. I tend to prop one hand on a stationary object, stand on my tippy toes and go to town with the right hand, praying that I'm able to keep my balance for the 2-3 minutes of glory. This has served me very well through the years, except for that one incident with my one friend's sink that detached from his bathroom wall, but I managed to put it back together in some working form or another.
Tuesday I went downstairs like normal. I dropped my drawers, turned on my phone, put my left hand on the clothes washer and went to town. At the peak of raising my heart rate, teetering on my tippy toes and left hand, I felt the pleasure (ahhhh!) and then an intense pain in my elbow. Appearantly my pre-workout routine has been the cause of my elbow pain. Who would have thought?
After figuring this out, I sat downstairs and thought, "Now what?" Having kept this schedule for the past year I knew exactly what I had to do first: hang a sign on the washer reminding myself to not masturbate on the washer, otherwise I'd be down there tomorrow doing the exact same thing. But if I don't use the washer as leverage, what do I use? Do I have to devise a new positon when this one has worked sooooo well for me for the past number of years? Seriously, I do accounting, 98% of what I do is repetitive and change is frowned upon. I live my life the same way. I sweat when something new comes up (meeting new people, public speaking on the rare occasions it happens, auditors), and don't handle change well. And now, something that I've grown to love and cherish has been taken away from me?
I guess at least I figured it out. Next on the list is figuring out why both my eyelashes are burned to the point they're curled up on the ends.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
9/11, I remember very well, many miles away.
Wednesday, September 07, 2011
I sat down at a table and left up $300. Sat down at another table and picked up another $150. Then we sat at Bar 360 for a bit before I snuck out to another table where I lost $200. I went back to the bar and started booty dancing with my friend's wife, as good (bad) as booty dancing can get for a 6'5" wite guy. And then I biffed it.
I woke up in the morning with a huge bruise on my side. I had no idea where I got it from. I guess, while trying to dance, I fell over and hit the corner of a table. I was told I bounced back up saying I was ok and we headed for the exit but again, that'swhat I was told.
A week later I still have the bruise. I can see how everyone at the bar stood up to look at me lying on the ground. Thank goodness we made a quick gettaway.
Saturday, September 03, 2011
The Renter told him he can't hang with me as far as drinking wise. "The Big Dog" was mentioned. I don't know if that was a compliment or not.