0.1: Codename German Club Is Not The Place To Meet Girls: Scared to death of my penis. And all other penii.

Puppysitting Mania!

I'm puppysitting for my little buddy Map until Thursday, then for Office Samoyed from Friday 'til Monday. Woohoo! Right this minute, Map is laying on the bed, next to his stuffed squeaky frog, staring at me. He's my new Best Bud 4Evar.

1.0: Codename Formative Love: Father was a philosphy professor, mother was a psychology professor. Mmmm, crazy smart family dynamic! When I look back at my life, I am constantly finding that this relationship has had the greatest effect on it, as a whole. Not sure what that means, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the answer.

Attention Chavez Infidel:

We're not going to take your shit. Chill out. Or maybe we will. Who knows? The day is still young in the LAND OF EMPIRE.

1.0.1: Codename Hates Her Mommy and Daddy: Hates Her Mommy and Daddy had a hurricane-tongue. She later became a skinhead chick.

Dano.

In poking around my old landlord/roommate's band's website, I discovered their myspace site. About a year before I moved out of his house, his old bandmate rejoined his band after moving from North Cakalaka to San Francisco. Now, I was paying 1200 a month in rent for basically two rooms. When Kurt moved in, he payed no rent. In fact, it seems he was given a 75 dollar a week allowance. To be honest, I didn't mind Kurt living there. He was a good guy, and generally pleasant to be around, but after he moved in, two other bandmates soon joined the household, as well. When I left, Dano went ahead with his plans to stock the house with non-rent-paying bandmates. As I expected, this apparently resulted in Dano getting taken advantage of. It's sad, really. Dano's a super-nice guy; nice to a fault, in fact.

1.1: Codename Rhode Island Radio Girl: I recall fondly getting it on in the lounge next to her boyfriend's dorm room in a drunken furor. Oh, sweet sense of urgency...

Extraneous Pointless Details about Buying Some Smokes

I opened the foggy glass and steel door, and put my right foot in front of my left, slowly traipsing across the gas station/convenience store threshold, right before left, left before right, marching slowly towards the front counter. The cashier, who I will now refer to as C, asked what I needed. I formed the following words:

Could I get one hard pack of Marlboro's, please?

He said that I could. He then walked to the back wall, and picked up a cardboard package of Marlboro cigarettes, red and white, and brought it back to the front counter, at which point he used the small, plastic laser scanner to read the UPC on the right side of the cigarette package.

C's calculations on the cash register resulted in a number flashing on the small LED; 3.49. This corresponded to the amount of currency being requested, so I offered C a five dollar bill, which had a picture of Abraham Lincoln on the front. On the back was a visual representation of the Lincoln Memorial. The sequence number of the bill was DF 65119177 B, series 2003. After C took the money with his right hand, he placed it gingerly in the cash register's drawer, then procured a single dollar bill, two quarters, and a penny, which he handed to me. I put the three coins in my right front pocket, then put the single dollar bill into my wallet, grabbed the package of cigarettes, said "Thank you", and left the store.

What does it all mean???????

Fucking hell, upon reading the preceding paragraphs, I feel as if I just pulled my soul out of my body through my eyes. Sorry about that. I really don't know what came over me.

1.5: Codename Gothgirl: Gothgirl had a thing for doing it in public. I'm not complaining.

Dialing Your Phone Number on the Shower Tiles

Codename Me With Tits and I had one peculiar behavior in common (actually, quite a few more, but this is a motherfucking vignette, not a novella); we both spent valuable showertime dialing our childhood phone numbers on a self-defined grid of tiles in the shower. We were also both on the same medications for dealing with such things. Totally Me, With Tits.

1.5.1: Codename AMW: I was drunk. Very, very drunk. Pretty sure I wouldn't have gone there were I not.

My Overachieving Junkmail Filter

I put Mail.app back in training mode, after finding not 1, not 2, but 14 emails from people I was expecting email from, rotting away in my Junk Mail folder. Settle down, Junkmail Filter! Don't make me smack you!

1.5.7: Codename Gwen: There is no more embarrassing moment than figuring out your date for the evening needs to call her parents and lie to them about where she's staying the night. I remember finding her name and phone number scribbled on a notepad the next day, and one of my roommates had taken a pink highlighter and drawn a large heart around her name. I could never bring myself to call her parents home and ask for her, despite the fact that, technically, we were the same age.

Tactical Error

The other day, our hosting ISP called me to make sure ${newBigBoss} was an approved access person. He was removed from the approved access people list (how this happened, I do not know, nor do I care), and had apparently called them and tried to get them to do something, but they needed to call me to make sure he was an actual employee, and that he was allowed to make such a request. Sadly, I told them he was. Note to self: upon departure, remove him from the approved access list. It's a parting gift, yo!

1.5.8: Codename Parking Garage Bathroom Sink Mistake: The codename pretty much says it all.

I'm in Trouble

By volunteering to dogsit for the next 8 days, I find myself in hot water for not considering certain plans a certain former Barista had made for us this weekend. Well, it's not just that; I think there are a couple of unresolved issues that she and I need to address. Ah, such fun.

She got mad at me last night when she found out about the puppysitting, but she didn't stay mad for long. 5 minutes with little Map sitting on her Lap, and she was down with the dogsitting plan. All hail the power of PUPPIES!

1.9: Codename Ms. Loudy O'Louderson: Our first date was a roadtrip to see Naked Raygun that ended up turning into spending the remaining 3 months of the semester together for every waking moment. Ms. O'Louderson was to be a recurring theme for the next 7 years or so, as we'd run into each other in various cities, and end up sleeping together. There was a strange moment once, while visiting then-friend/now-enemy Herr Greenberg, when Greenberg and his roommate Doug were talking about their missing roommate (missing as in "wasn't present at the time of discussion", not "has picture on back of milk carton") and his snotty, obnoxious girlfriend. Both Herr Greenberg and Mr. Doug noted that the most annoying thing about her, from their perspective, was that she was way too loud during sex. They dreaded her visits, knowing they would have to drown out her moans of pleasure, broadcast to the entire neighborhood. It took me about 20 minutes to figure out that, based on their description, said girlfriend was, in fact, my ex, Ms. Loudy O'Louderson. Small world, yo.

Puppysitting Update:

Map is sleeping on the bed, with his stuffed frog squeaky toy tucked under his nose, next to the remote control for the tv. I'd love to change from MSNBC to CNBC for Hot Market Price Scrolley Action, but I don't want to wake the little dude up.

1.9.1: Codename Purity: Purity was nice and sweet, but the quiet way with which she approached life made me feel predatory for even contemplating having sex with her. I wasn't comfortable being the dude who would take her virginity, so I sabotaged the relationship, then introduced her to my friend David. In the long run, that was a good move.

Beer Night: RFC

Monday was beer night, as it always is for ${coworker} and I. And sometimes others. Every week, we, at some point, end up bitching about work in some form or another. Does this mean that we can both write off our beer expenses as "work-related"? Or, better yet, can they be submitted on expense reports and result in reimbursement?

2.0: Codename Ivory Tower: Ivory Tower was intense, but insane. Her great-grandfather is rather famous for having achieved alchemical success (and subsequently changing modern warfare), but that wasn't what made Ivory Tower insane. Instead, childhood parental abuse is what did that. Her codename stems from the time she tried to choke me, in frustration at my lack of getting upset at her bevy of targetted insults. What was particularly odd was the fact that while she was trying to choke me, and I was keeping her at arm's length (well, sort of...), she totally orgasmed. I presume this was the result of arousal from the act of choking a dude, which is a disturbing thing to find in a girlfriend. These days, she's a performance artist in Chicago. Surprise, surprise.

Chapel Thrill, Y'all

Allah is his lawyer. If I were him, I'd be ditching that dude and getting a regular human lawyer. You know, one that could use the "Dude, Your Honor, it's patently OBVIOUS my client is insane; he's a FUCKING PSYCH GRADUATE! I mean, DUH!" defense, which is infinitely more effective than the Chewbacca Defense.

3.0: Codename Israel: We've dated a few different times, but this was the first.

Poops SITREP

Two movements today; the first was solid but fragrant, the second was watery and AWESOME. Beer night ROX0RZ for purging the system the next day.