Some things I like, some things I don't.

I know we already discussed this, but I just wanted to talk about my job a little more. It's actually a decent job... for a cubicle job. My main problem with is a certain coworker. We'll call him Corky, which is actually an insult to the guy from Life Goes On. Corky is 40 years old, but has the mental capacity of a 4 year old that just got hit by a car. To make matters worse, he's really stubborn and considers that to be a positive thing. Whenever he gets involved with an issue, I brace myself because things are about to get needlessly complicated, and then I'm going to have to explain it all over again and stop about 8 times for him to say "Wait, I'm confused" Corky bought a motorcycle, but not even a cool one, it's like a dorkcycle and he got rid of his car, so he has to ride it in the rain and whatnot. If they came to me one day and said "Corky was trampled by a horse last night" I'd probably say "Alright! High Five?" and then hug them while weaping tears of joy. Oh I want more money too, but the main reason that I think about leaving my job is Corky.

Side Note: Like Nikki Sixx, I too do not wish to die in Van Nuys.

Last weekend I bought an exercise bike, it's pretty sweet, there is one problem... it had no screws or bolts or any hardware in it. So now I'm waiting for the company to send them to me, should be here next week or so.

I have to tell the story of a great battle. Me vs My girlfriends dog. His name is Buster. He's an old Cocker Spaniel that she rescued. He's deaf and a little dumb because some a-hole hit him in the head. I like him, he's sort of cute in a pitiful kind of way, and he has a mullet. But I resent him. I'm pretty sure that she likes him more than me, and he kind of annoys me. He poops on the floor whenever I come over, although not recently. I like to mess with him. We played a lot of invisible fetch, where I pretend to throw things and he goes to chase them. I've locked him the shower, and other side rooms. It really is horrible. But my coup de grace occurred a couple weeks ago. Girlfriend has a pretty high bed, Buster needs steps to get into this bed. So, I moved the steps about a foot away from the bed, thinking that the little guy would just not be able to get into her bed, and then he'd just bark and annoy her. It was really a brilliant plan. BUT... he was so determined to get into bed he just sort of walked off the edge of the stairs and into oblivion. One of the most difficult things in my life was not laughing hysterically at that point, while girlfriend was yelling at me. Buster's ok, and nothing else has really happened since then. We do play fun games together, I lift his front paws off the ground and either make him walk around like a T-Rex (I provide the dinosaur noises for him) or disco dance. It's quite fun really. and I'm a horrible person. I know.

That's all I have right now. I think that my mustache is pretty awesome and I'm growing my hair out. I'm trying to look like one of the Beastie Boys from the Sabotage video.