Fucking Hawt
There she is. Isn't she pretty fucking hot? Look at the way those dark blue curves go from where her feet meet the desk to her smooth, bezelled top, so ample and full, making her O face. Er, O2 face. Whatever. HOT!!!!! As for the moaning, I think I need to reseat the internal CD drive, as I'm pretty sure that's not a normal sound for an O2.
Man, I need a cigarette after all that. Be right back.
Reconnaissance by Signage
Sometimes, you can tell what neighborhood you're in by reading the signs; if they're predominantly in Korean, you can make a safe guess that your in a Korean neighborhood. If they're in Spanish, you're in a Latino neighborhood. If the gas station is giving away tire gauges to anyone who buys three packs of smokes, you might just be in a crackhead neighborhood. Or a neighborhood populated with cigarette-smoking auto mechanics enthusiasts. But seriously, how many tire gauges does one person need? And shouldn't that come with some Chore Boy? Strangely enough, they had Chore Boy for sale there, too. And the cutest little silk roses in these tiny little vials. Awww. The calculator is a pretty good deal, too. You can count up rocks with that thing.
Uh, OK...

I have no idea what the pictured device is, or what it is supposed to do, but it has a Meat Powder button, and has something to do with saliva measurement, so I think it's pretty cool.
Fancy Loft Crib Picture
Got Drunk Last Night
And woken up pleasantly this morning. Hours, and a meat pizza, later, I am back at 100%, just in time to wait til market close to shower, then go look at a Truman Showesque condominium.
Also, I like Joey, though Hank looks like a nice fellow, too. Choices, choices, choices.
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