A few points I would like to make:
1. The Friendster Chat beta-program sucks my nuts. Don’t bother.
2. Fake hot chicks sending me messages SUCK EVEN HARDER. I was all like, “I got a message from a hot chick.” She just got to Seattle, she’s looking for new folk, can I show her around? FUCKING A I CAN! Wait, she gave me her real email? That’s a little fishy…Oh hey, another hot chick sent me a message. WOO HOO! I’m hot shit. And her message is…exactly…the same…as the first one. God dammit.
3. What’s worse than a flat tire on your bike on the way home? One on a brand spanking new bike, on the third ride ever. Through no fault of my own. The bike shop says they’ll fix it for free, but I can’t get it in until Sunday. God dammit.
Better things:
I went to the giftmas party Amy Burton and her gentleman Russel (is that right, Amy?) threw. He is really, really cool. British, well-mannered, a hell of a host, and a generally great guy. I rode there and back with Kate Parker and Jenny Schmit (regular reunion!), and we spent most of the ride back talking about how much we liked him. Everyone be happy for Amy, as she has struck gentlemanly gold.
Oh, and he was wearing a kilt. Bonus points all around.
We’ve got all new G5 Macs at work, and soon they’ll be on our desks. Today and tomorrow and devoted to training on them. Since I’m already Mac-savvy, it’s a vacation. They have iSight (built in cameras), so expect pictures with cheezy effects soon.
It rains in Seattle. A lot. In case you didn’t know.
Bagpipes + a hip-hop beat = teh RoXxOr (totally sweet, for you non-733t kids out there).
Taking a cue from Amy’s success through match.com, as well as several other people I know, I did something I said I never would. Mind you, I haven’t paid any money. Posting is free, but it costs money to contact people. Scope out some of the fine-assed women on that site. The Stranger is a badass free paper here, and Austin Garrison and I had a lot of fun surfing the ads and discussing it via Messenger.
Because I HATE trying to pick up chicks in bars.
So that’s all the news that’s fit to print. I’m out, beeotches.
With apologies to Austin for outing him, but you gotta admit it’s kinda funny.
