slow down on that 40, you just might drown.

on my computer all of my posts have become itty bitty, but i checked on joes and everything appears to be ok. let me know if it is tiny on yours. actually dont.

based on my hourly wage and the size of the building (after analyzing the floor plans), i have calculated that hypothetically if i went on a tour of the building i would make approximately 20 dollars before passing a door that i had already gone by.

today marks my third day of work. today may prove to be slightly more interesting because my drug screening and physical results are due sometime making me finally eligible to play in the lab. for the last two days i have been doing just about nothing save playing on the computer and reading some company policy manuals.

today was my first day of work. it was good i suppose. nothing too interesting to write. you would have been better to not have checked out mattio's lounge.

its been that kind of season for the redsox. okay, so its only been one game, but still. pedro left after 7 innings allowing only one run, which wasnt even earned before the morons in the bullpen allowed 5 ninth inning runs. bunch of queers. anyway, derek jeter got mashed by the toronto catcher so i can look past the redsox loss, and yankee win. it makes me feel so good inside to see that little flamer have his shoulder get torn off. also on a good note, we played wiffle ball in the cabot center and it was most excellent. except we forgot the actual wiffleball so me and hamel had to go back and get it.

frank "the crook", is a loser. i had the unfortunate experience of spending time with this portly gentleman and i am not impressed. picture the fat annoying kid that thinks he's hilarious and you may begin to picture frank. hes the kind of jerk who rings the alarm in the elevator and knocks on every door while walking down the hall. throughout the night he challenged everyone to fight him several times and made countless moronic comments. frank is the person i wish most to not live.

there we were. walking up parker street on our way to the neighborhood mexican liquor store. due to the absurd amount of rain joe and myself were dripping wet. reshma and elise had brought umbrellas but were not entirely untouched by the rain. elise began to yell about how she got hit with a rock. i was totally confused and i looked around for something that could have hit her. and then i saw it. the pink remains of a balloon at her feet. a car had driven by and some madman had thrown a waterballoon at her legs. that guy is the man.