HOLLLLLA

So today I quit my job at Club LQ. You are all probably really sad (especially Jennifer). You are all sad like this:


Well I am happy like these people:



especially like her:


Anyway, so YAY!!!!!!

The end.

Here I am on Thanksgiving evening...at work. At Club LQ. By myself. Loving it? Not so much. What a strange world in which we live. I have to work today and Lindsey had to work today. The two white people. Funny how this is a celebration of something that the white folk did a long time ago, but the white folk still gotta work. Who's not working today? The housekeepers, all of whom were born in Mexico. You know who else has the day off? Huong and Chong Kim. Koreans. I bet they didn't even know what Thanksgiving was until they moved to the US several years ago. On the check I just recently got, they wrote, "Have thanks giving." As if I had a choice to have it or not. "Oh, no thanks, I'd prefer not to have Thanksgiving this year." Anyway, I just think it's ironic that all of the above have the day off. Racist? Maybe.

So there's this chick staying in room 123. TOTAL.METH.ADDICT. She looks something like this:

Anyway, so she's come up to the desk multiple times. The first time she comes up she came up and said she went into the housekeeping room (usually locked) and took some laundry to fold. She just wanted to let me know. When she's done folding it, she's going to let me know, so I can let her put it back in. WHAT THE HELL? How did she get in there???? Crazy.

When she came up to the desk the first time she said
MethBitch: Just so you know, the guys in 117 are using Volta.
Me: What's that?
MethBitch: You don't know what that is?
Me: Nope.
MethBitch: It's pot. Weed. Marijuana.
Me: Oh. How do you know?
MethBitch: I asked them. Plus, they're dealers, and I know them. You know that black guy in 117? He wanted to see the bruises on my back so I showed him, but he saw part of my chi chi. He was mad that I wouldn't show him both. I should cut off his balls.
Me: That sounds like a good idea.
MethBitch: Meth is great, but it won't give you sex.
Me: *fake customer service smile*
MethBitch: Awww you're so innocent. How old are you?
Me: 19.
MethBitch: That's sweet. When my daughter was 19, she was a topless dancer. I bet you're a virgin, aren't you?
Me: haha no.
MethBitch: really???
Me: Yup
MethBitch: If I order a pizza, will you eat it with me?
Me: No, I actually have a Thanksgiving dinner in the fridge.
MethBitch: Oh...you're from a rich family, aren't you? Look at my fingers! *flips me off*
Me: haha no.
MethBitch: Want a soda?
Me: Um, no thanks. I have one back here. (lie)
MethBitch: Have you seen my twenty dollar bill?
Me: Um...no..
MethBitch: I know you don't have it. I trust you.

So she leaves and goes to her room. Later she calls me back saying she needs some lined paper. I told her that I had some blank white paper that she could use, but she would have to come to the front desk to get it. She asked me to meet her half way. Lazy ass. So I did. When I met her half way, she held out a bag of Sour Skittles and said, "Want some sours?" I politely declined the oh-so grateful offer.

WTF! A guest just brought some medicine to the front desk, and the prescription is for this meth chick. They said they found the bottle in the parking lot. hahaha why does this keep getting better and better?

Later she calls me and tells me that she knows what happened to her $20: the "wetbacks" from housekeeping stole it. Her word, not mine.

So the classiness continues at LQ.

Angie Mickelson got married on Friday, Nov. 18. She's 19 and I think her husband is 29. Here's a picture of them:

WTF...is he wearing lipstick?

Upon further inspection, the answer is: I'm not sure. What do you think?

Also on the 18th was my mom's birthday. She turned 49! She looks damn good, too. Here's a pic of her blowing out the candle on her cake at El Paso Steakhouse in Mesa:


And, just for fun, a really sexy picture of Lindsey and me:


That is all. I hope everyone has had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Who's going shopping tomorrow? I AM! I LOVE IT! HOLLLLLLLLLA!!!!

So...basically now that I don't work graveyard anymore, nothing exciting happens at Club LQ. *sadness*

Does anyone remember me describing the GORGEOUS girl Angelic who was hired to work at the front desk? Well, she's still here and she still sucks ass. She can't do anything right. Well, someone got the bright idea to train her how to do housekeeping. I love it. She definitely got demoted from front desk to housekeeping. Stupid slut! haha

AND THEN she comes to the desk after she's done cleaning rooms, and she tells me what hard work it was, and that no one in housekeeping likes her. She also told me that she has aspirations of going to beauty school. Here's the conversation:

Angelic: I've always wanted to go to beauty school.
Me: You should go. My sister just graduated from cosmetology school on Friday.
Angelic: I should...but it's like $11,000 for everything. I really want to work somewhere nice like Costcutters or Supercuts. I really want to work at Supercuts.

SUPERCUTS?!?!??!?!?!?!? What a "nice" place. I think I threw up all over the place when she said that. I also threw up when I saw her mole...and when I smelled the Aussie Sprunch Spray in her hair. She's really neat.

Here's my dog that I just adopted.





Thanks, Deanna.

Last night a witch chick who was staying her supposedly cast a spell on me so I would get laid today. Well, long story short, I guess she really was a witch.

Bobby's spell, on the other hand, did not come true:

Dustybottoms18: did you get laid today?
belamiboyaz: well she screwed me
belamiboyaz: no
belamiboyaz: i didn't even jerk it
belamiboyaz: too tired

Oh well. You win some, you lose some. Clearly I won this one.

So these little bitch ass punk mother fucking asshole cunts are staying at Club LQ. They have 5 rooms and they have been here for 6 days. I don't know what the hell they're doing here, and I wish they'd get their brown asses out of Tucson.

Apparently someone told these fugly bitches that it was ok to breed, and, consequently, there are about 10 kids here with them. All the kids are under the age of 10, with the exception of the coked-out sister with bleach-blond hair (she is Mexican). They all sit in the lobby and play games on the guest computer. It is SO freaking annoying. I want to slap each of them in the face. One little boy has diamond earrings (obviously fake). I would pay a large sum of money to pull them out, make him swallow them, and then watch him cry and possibly bleed to death.

The little vagina mongrels keep coming to the desk with five dollar bills asking for quarters. DO THEY REALIZE THAT I AM NOT ABOUT TO COUNT 20 QUARTERS FOR THEM? Bastards. I asked them what in the hell they needed the change for, and they said "nothing." I asked, "is it for the vending machine?" The little punk ass bizzle said, "no."

Did I mention they're all drinking coffee? The children are drinking coffee. WTF.

They keep asking to use the lobby phone to call to a room. I eventually told them, "if you really want to talk to them, you can go to their room and knock." They also keep saying the vending machine has been eating their money and that they need a refund. My manager told me to not give them any more refunds.

I want to brush my teeth.

HODUP! The dad just came to the desk:

Him: Can I get 5 dollars in quarters?
Me: I don't have any quarters. (lie)
Him: Well can I get dimes, nickels, pennies, whatever. Why don't the soda machines take pennies?
Me: I don't know.
Him: I'm going to talk to the government about that.
Me: Ok.
Him: You look like a pretty good arm wrestler. Are you?
Me: I don't know.
Him: Wanna arm wrestle?
Me: No, but thanks.
Him: You're NOT welcome.

I seriously don't even know what to say.

So earlier a little crack whore in training from the same family came to the desk and she kept saying, "Your phone's ringing. It's ringing. Answer it." I just glared at her. Then she climbed up ONTO THE FRONT DESK and started examining the stuff behind the counter.
Her: Can you get me a water? (from the vending machine in the back)
Me: Do you have 50 cents?
Her: No. Use your money.
Me: Yeah, no.
Her: Get it out of the drawer. There's money in there.
Me: Yeah, there is, and it's not for you.
Her: COME ON! HOOK ME UP! Let me in! (don't know what "let me in" means)
*evil glare*
Her: Is that your computer?
Me: Yes
Her: Let me see it.
*I point to it*
Her: no, bring it over here.
Me: No. Whaat are you doing on the counter?
Her: I'm getting a pencil.
Me: No, that's a highlighter.
Her: well, i'm too short to get it from the ground.
Me: you shouldn't be getting it at all
Her: ok
*jumps off the counter and leaves w/ highlighter*

I'd rather slurp period blood than be her father.

Remember the coked-out sister? The pretty one. Well, she comes up to the desk and says, "Can you tell them it's my turn on the computer?" I said, "No. You can tell them that." She rolled her bloodshot eyes and pranced away. She finally gets to use the computer and she looks over and her 3 siblings are just staring at me from the front desk. She says, "Stop bother those people at the register." HODUP. PEOPLE? REGISTER? I am one person and I am NOT a cashier, nor do I have a register.

chamorro2004: your hotel is going to have to put up a classy glass window
chamorro2004: with the classy talk holes
chamorro2004: and the money silver thing
chamorro2004: at the bottom of the counter
chamorro2004: OMG
chamorro2004: can it be a drawer
chamorro2004: like at safeway gas stations

Anyway, I'm only going to work here for about 7 more months and then I graduate, so it's all good.

Tonight is my LAST night working graveyard! I'm so happy. I didn't wake up in time for work today. I got a call at 11:09 and it was the girl who worked from 3-11 asking me where I was. I got dressed really fast and got here at 11:20. I'm awesome like that.

Last night I trained this kid Bobby (although he's been working in the hotel business since I was like 8 yrs old) who is mentally retarded. I should have got a pic of him, but I didn't. Ok, he's not retarded. lol that was lame. So he was talking to Jill, the other night auditor who murdered her husband. Remember her? Well he was talking to her and she said something to the effect of, "Dustin is a nice guy, but he's gay." BUT HE'S GAY? Does she not realize that she is 60, works at a hotel, murdered her husband, is fugly, has warts on her eyes, has nasty ass long fingernails (coke scoops), has saggy tits, and drives a car that was made somewhere around 1967? I'd rather be gay, blind, deaf, mentally retarded, wheelchair bound, and in a coma than be that rare specimen that we call a human being.

End the ranting.

I think I'm goint to OUToberfest this Saturday at Reid Park, but I have to get someone to switch work shifts with me. Mr. and Mrs. Kim (Korean owners of Club LQ) are having a cookout for all employees on Saturday that I will undoubtedly be ditching. I would be scared to eat their food anyway. This morning Mr. Kim told me what they would be cooking, but he did it in his "English," and I didn't understand what the hell he said, but he was making noises and made it sound like it was good. He asked me if I had ever had it, and I just said "no." He could have been talking about steak, chicken, hotdogs, or hamburgers. I'll never know.

So...I told my boss that I can't work graveyard anymore. It's fucking up my life. I'm constantly tired, I'm always trying to catch up on things, and I'm always missing class and practicum because I'm so tired. He was understanding, and asked if I was able to work graveyard Friday and Saturday night. I'm going to tell him no. I just need to not work graveyard. I just can't.

So the other auditor (graveyard worker) is named Jill. She's about 60 and obviously really pretty and really classy. She has gorgeous long, gray hair and she has wart-like nasty things on her eyelids. She's so repulsively disgusting that, when you look at her, you can't help but picture her naked. Shut up, you know what I'm talking about.

Anyway, she used to be married and she was in an abusive relationship. One night, things between her and her husband escalated and became very nasty. During that abusive episode, she shot him in the head and he died. YES, SHE FREAKING MURDERED HER HUSBAND. She got away with it, too, with only going to a women's correctional facility for less than a year. And now, she is a classy employee at Club LQ. With that in mind, here is a conversation that occured last night around 11:15 while I was packing up my stuff to leave and she had just arrived to work:

Guest: Can you tell me the room number of Mr. Smith?
Jill: No, it's illegal for me to tell you what room someone is in. You never know if you're just going to go up there and shoot someone.
Me: Yeah Jill, she really looks like a murderer....(she was like 70 yrs old)
Jill: Hey, you never know, I shot my husband.
*HOLY MOTHER! FREAKING AWKWARD SILENCE!!!*
Guest: um.....well.............there were probably uh......circumstances.
Jill: Oh yeah, there were definitely circumstances.

WTF! Do people not know when to shut the hell up? That is NOT something you should tell anyone, let alone a guest at your hotel! I would not be able to sleep the whole night if I was that guest. I would be afraid that Eye Warts would come up and shoot me while I was sleeping!

PS these little Mexican kids keep coming to the desk to ask for shit. It's really getting on my nerves. Bitches.

I'm at Club LQ right now. HOLLLLLLLA!

The newspaper delivery guy just came in and brought the newspapers for today. He was cute and he smiled and we chatted for a few seconds. Then, as he was turning around to walk out, his braid whipped around. Yes, his braid. It was almost down to his waist. *vomit*

So we had the LQ inspector come the other day and Mrs. Kim was in the breakfast room eating breakfast. When he got here, Mrs. Kim stopped eating and started chatting w/ the guy. Well, the man didn't leave for like 4 hours. Mrs. Kim came to the front desk and was really sad that her noodles were soggy. OF COURSE she was eating noodles for breakfast!!!! So stereotypical.

A guy came in on Saturday night and was driving some 2006 black truck. He was saying that he wanted to park somewhere in the parking lot where it was well lit because his truck was "nice with TVs and shit in the dash." So he goes on and says, "you know how Mexicans are...I like Mexican women, but Mexican men steal. They need to stop letting the Mexicans come up here." Note: he had a gold tooth.

So quite frequently guests ask me what my major is at UA. I just tell them that it's American Sign Language Interpreting. EVERY SINGLE TIME I tell anyone, they ask,"what do you want to do with that?" What do I want to do with it? It's not like Psychology where you can get a job in thousands of areas. No, it's a specialized skill that will prepare me to be an ASL/English Interpreter. That really gets on my nerves. Bitches.

PS Does anyone know what they're building on the mall at UA?

UA Family Still In Shock
RIP Polkey

So today in Cindy's Deaf History class, Loni gave a presentation on Juan Pablo Bonet. It was absolutely fantastic. Here are pics of her dressed up:



The greatest part is that she found the robe (in addition to a SPIDERMAN COSTUME ) in a dumpster. The cross belongs to her roommate Teresa.

I Heart Loni:


My new best friend:


If you wear these pants, I hate you.


Tonight at Los Betos, this lady


kept saying "there are crazy people out there" to David and me. Clearly she was the crazy one. (BTW she had grass in her hair.)

Also, this guy
ordered fish and only got 3 pieces of fish. Apparently he wanted more, because he kept saying "I want more fish. I really just want a lot of fish. Can I get more fish? I wanted more fish." Weird. Fish is gross anyway.

That is all for now.

Weird things that happened at work today:

A 19 year old stripper named Shantell stays here sometimes and does private dances (probably more) in her room. She works at The Candy Shop (strip club). Here's a pic of her when she stayed here about a month ago and she was wasted:

So this guy, from Tucson, comes into the lobby and asks to rent a room. I get his ID and credit card and start checking him in when Shantell walks in behind him. I said, "Hey girl! How are you doin?" And the guy said, "OH SHIT! Everyone knows you!" It was so awkward. They were undoubtedly going to get dirrty. Too bad he was so ugly that he had to pay for sex.

THEN this lady comes in around 1 AM and checks into room 145. She calls me about 10 minutes later saying she can't get her wireless internet to work. I tried to walk her through it, but she had an iBook and I don't know anything about Mac. She asked for a tech support number that she could call, so I gave it to her. She calls back later saying she still can't get it to work. I hate it when people do crap like that. What the hell do they expect me to do? Anyway, she comes to the lobby and asks me to call someone who can help her. I said, "umm...I really don't know who I would call." Then she noticed that we have a business center in the lobby. She went and sat at that computer and I didn't pay any attention to her. I look over at her maybe 20 minutes later and see that the screensaver was on. I then look at her and she was passed out at the computer:

That is where she remains over two hours later. SO WEIRD!

I don't even know what I would write about if I didn't work here.

Before


After


Big improvement if you ask me!

This is quite possibly the largest fountain drink you can purchase. It's almost as big as my notebook! The DOUBLE GULP is 64 oz (almost 2 Liters) of pure happiness (aka Dr. Pepper). You know you love it!

This says it all, right? Wrong. This is posted on the lobby door and I cannot tell you how many people have come in to make sure that we really are full.

"You have no rooms, huh?"
"Are you full?"
"Do you have any rooms?"
"Aint got no rooms?"

Do they think it's a joke? Do they think we're playing a trick on them? No, the sign says NO VACANCY for a fuckin reason. Bitches.

Apparently it's spelt "Dalai Lama"...my bad

So, everyone knows that I'm not racist. Read my previous LJ entries, and you will quickly know that there is not a racist bone in my body. Ok, maybe like 2 racist bones. Anyway, this is what happened today:

I was on the I-10 East driving from Mesa to Tucson at around 1 pm. I was in the left lane doin about 90. Well, I pull up behind this 1984-ish looking trashy mini van full of shit and like 8 children. Every person in the vehicle was of Mexican descent (not that that has anything to do with anything). So I pull up behind her and this toothless bitch is goin about 70. Does she not know that slower traffic is to keep to the right? Oh, maybe she couldn't read that sign because it was in English. So I turn on my blinker and I start to pass her in the right lane. I then notice that Rosalinda starts to speed up. I believe my exact words were, "OH HELL NO!" So I sped up even more and got to about 100 MPH before I passed her. Well, after I passed her I had to slow down significantly because there was another slow car in front of me. Would you believe that the bitch had the nerve to ride my tail? I wasn't even about to have that. I slowed down to about 60, flipped her off, and went on my merry way. Who gave this lady permission to breed? That person should have their goods cut off...and fed to Rosalinda's children.

So I'm at Club LQ (formerly known as La Quinta), and we're 100% booked tonight. In fact, we're overbooked by 2 rooms. So, basically I hope some people don't show up. There are two reasons we're so full: the Nine Inch Nails concert and the Dalilama (sp?) Convention at the Starr Pass Marriott and the Tucson Convention Center. Lets just say, that both events attract an interesting crowd. We have Buddhist Monks/Nuns (yes, they are Monks and Nuns, I asked)staying here in addition to teenage gothic punk rockers who are just 2 KOOL 4 SKOOL! So earlier today some monks and nuns were in the lobby chatting and I was at the front desk acting like I was doing something, which I do very frequently. All the sudden I hear one of them say, "don't let it touch the ground." I look up and all of them are holding their prayer shawls. (Bryan, I made THE noise!) As I'm watching them do some kind of weird ritual, I notice everyone stop and look at one nun. HER SHAWL TOUCHED THE GROUND. Everyone gasped as if she accidentally detonated an Atomic Bomb on Tibet, killing all of their fellow nuns and Monks. They quickly threw away the shawl, and their awkward fiesta in the lobby quickly ended. If anyone's interested, he will be speaking Monday at 3 PM at TCC.

So there are definitely Deaf people staying in room 103. They keep coming to ask me questions...probably because they can. It would be so frustrating to have to write everything. They're going to the ASDB volleyball tournament tomorrow. Their daughter is playing in it. Aren't you glad I'm sharing this vital information?

Well, the people who had reservations just came in...they were not happy. I was like, "I have some bad news. You have three rooms reserved and we only have two rooms available." The lady was like, "hold on" and I KNEW she was going to get her husband. He comes in, acting all badass, "So what? We're just assed out here?" "Well, we only have two rooms. There's nothing I can do." Then they went to the Howard Johnson. I'm not going to say what race they were, because it's irrelevant. Needless to say, i'm glad they left though, because now i have enough rooms for the reservations left. HOLLLLA!

I love Mrs. Kim, the owner of Club LQ. She's Korean and really funny. The other morning she came in at like 6 AM and I was finishing up my graveyard shift. She came and she was like, "Why you no unlock gate?" and I said, "I've never unlocked the gate before." And then she barked, "DAT YOU JOB!" Note to self: don't fuck with Mrs. Kim.

Well, I should go. Probably becuase I have nothing else of interest to say. As if anything I said was interesting. Hell yes I get off work in 26 minutes.

I have a secret. It's a dirty little secret. I've only told two people. Here it is: I really want to see a live taping of the Maury Povich Show. I love Maury. More importantly, I love the black chicks (or white trash chicks) who are 120% sure that Tyrell is their baby's daddy. Yes, they were 110% sure that the first 6 men tested were also their baby's daddy, but this time they are 120% sure. That's a lot of percent. I really want to join the classiness that is the Maury Show....

So I've been thinking a lot lately (not just about Maury). I graduate in May, and then there's an 85% chance that I'll be leaving Tucson. I've grown to like Tucson a bit. Not a lot, but more so than I thought I would. I'm sure there's a lot more to this town that I haven't had the opportunity to experience because I stay so busy with school, work, sleeping, and eating. So I consulted the brochures in the La Quints lobby, and here are some things I would like to do before I graduate May 13, 2006:

- Kartchner Caverns in Benson
- Reid Park Zoo (seriously, admission is only $5)
- Tombstone
- Biosphere II
- Desert Museum
- Sabino Canyon
- Ride the Trolly on University Ave
- Pima Air & Space Meseum
- Take pictures on the snake bridge near Euclid/Broadway
- See a show at Centennial Hall
- Go camping on Mt. Lemmon
- Eat Dominos, McDonalds, and/or Panda Express on a daily basis

So those are the things I need to do before I leave Tucson. Anyone want to do any of them with me?

I'm at work right now. My work is so white trash. It would really benefit me if I spoke Spanish. All of the housekeepers and the maintenance person speak Spanish. I check in so many people from Mexico who speak little or no English. Despite their lack of English skills, they always some how manage to ask, "Do I get a discount because I'm from Mexico?" What the fuck? Do you get a discount becuase you're from a gross country? No, we actually charge you more because you come up here and breath the white man air. Ok, so that was really racist, but if I hear one more person ask that, I'm going to bitch slap them back to Mexico.

Ok, so a new girl started working here the other day. Her name is Angelic. Gorgeous is not even the word to start describing her. (A guy just checked in and he straight up smelt like a combo of piss and cigarettes. VOMIT!) Anyway, so Angelic is a classy girl who comes from either South Tucson or Nogales. I'm not sure which, but it's definitely one of the two. She has a Spanish accent, although she knows less Spanish than I do. She's 25 and looks like she just turned 17 yesterday. She has really pretty hair. It's naturally black (as you can tell by the ridiculously long roots) and it's dyed a nasty orange color. She uses atleast 3 bottles of mousse in her hair per week to keep it crunchy at all times. She has scars on her arm and she undoubtedly has 3 hidden tattoos of the names of her 3 babies' daddies. If anyone would like to date her, please call me.

A hooker-looking Mexican lady is using the courtesy phone in the lobby. Her name is Kristina. "I'm watiing for my niece, man. My brother is pissed. He is fucking pissed. That's his baby girl, his only daughter, his baby. You don't know where he went? Where I can find them? Wullll, I need your help. What can I do? It's my niece, ok? Do i need to take you to talk to him?" That's what she just said. I typed it as I was listening. She is ghetto for sure, but I'm creepy for stalking her. OMG! She got Amanda on the phone and a guy came into the lobby and he wasn't wearing a shirt. "Where the fuck is she? Bitch, where is she? The cops are looking for you. If she's not here in 10 minutes, i'm going to stab you. Your neck is going to get snapped." Then he hung up the phone. Holy shit! There's all kinds of drama up in here. She is the second creepy person to use that phone since I got here. The first was a black chick who had just gotten out of jail and she needed a ride. She called her friend and he didn't got no money eithah. She she said she was going to walk around all night. Maybe she can become a prostitute so she can get some money so she can get a new weave because the one she has now is just not cutting it.

So I was thinking about something earlier today when I was eating a sandwich. The bread kept sticking to the roof of my mouth...and that's when I started thinking. What we call the "roof of the mouth" should actually be called the "ceiling of the mouth." Afterall, ceilings are on the inside and roofs (rooves?) are on the outside. The top of our head should be called the "roof of the mouth." Just a thought...

I'm done rambling for now. Lets hope I don't get raped at work.

I am the worst LJer of all time. I decided that I should start writing again because I stalk other people (yeah, i check your journal multiple times per day to see if you've updated).

I'm at work right now and it's so boring. I'm working graveyard, which is easy, yet boring. I haven't started my work and I've been here for 2.5 hours. My paperwork is just chillin next to my computer. Fuck that. Oh, some famous dude is staying at my hotel. He's a boxer named Hector Camacho. Google that shit.

So a few minutes ago this lady calls me at the front desk. This is what our conversation was (sort of) like:

Bitch in Room 223: Can I get a wake up call for 7 am?
::I program the wake up call into the computer::
Me: Alright, ma'am, you're all set.
Bitch in Room 223: If I don't answer can you call me again?
Me: Umm...we don't actually call you. It's all programmed into the computer.
Bich in Room 223: Oh, ok.
Me: Yeah. Have a good night.

Are you joking? Did this chick think we actually have call her room and say, "Rise and shine! It's morning time. I hope you have a wonderful day!"? What a gunt.

Things I'm addicted to: Otter Pops, Wikipedia, LiveJournal, CollegeHumor, Reno 911!, UrbanDictionary, Internet, Google, Weather.com, Porn, Natural Ice chapstick, LimeWire, AIM, and other addicting things.

I ate an egg salad sandwich that was really good, but I have monster breath now. It's a good thing I brought a toothbrush and toothpaste to work today.

I really need to go to the bathroom...