Who's the Boss?

She thinks she's in charge of everything now, just because she's going to be totally supporting me for a few weeks (months?).  She was inspecting my boxers to see which ones were ready to be trashed when she held up my faves, asking why they weren't all fucked up where my balls sit like the rest of the pile.  "They're my sexy boxers, I barely wear them."  Let's be honest, I rarely wear any underwear at all any more.

I made it back to L.A.  Almost missed the I-5 turnoff cuz I was changing CDs.  It's ok.  I whipped over 3 lanes doing 85, so I was cool.  I should probably take a few days off of the 6 hour commutes.

I applied to 7 Craigslist jobs today.  Most of them involved pouring wine, but there was one fun one where I could drive around the bay area and teach kids about physics using Legos.  Sweet.

Had a strange smell on my hands all day.  I thought it was musty or rust from my apartment debacle.  5 hours into the drive I realized I just didn't wash my hands well enough after chopping onions for chilaquiles this morning.  I smell like an old, wooden cutting board, and there's no fixing it.  Awesome.

Only other good story from my tumultuous life today is going to get me killed.  I was DIWMGf.  I stopped in the middle, got up, walked around, and finally found my chapstick.  I put it on my lips and went back to business.  I need chapstick to live.  I need chapstick more than chubby kids need saturated fat.  Don't worry, she wasn't too put off.  She spent most of the time playing tug-of-war and fetch with the dog.  I don't need her attention anyway.

Wow, that's a little much.  I assured you that my brain had no filter, and I really shouldn't allow my fingers to type what I'm thinking.  Hope you enjoy it all anyway.

Fuck it,
~RoB