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Jason Rimbaud

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Everything posted by Jason Rimbaud

  1. Loved the way I couldn't figure out where this was going to the ending. Nicely done. J
  2. This story is sweet and wistful at the same time for me. Much like the time I was in SFO airport a few years ago, and two 14 to 16 year old boys were walking around holding hands without a care in the world. ZBoth of these instances bring a sadness to mind, when I was that age I didnt have the opportunity to be so carefree about my sexulaity in public. Most of my experiences were always in the shadows. Beautifully written tale about youth, acceptance. Acceptance of sexuality and that horrible acceptance that we are no longer the young that we still think in our minds. Very moving j
  3. I too have fond memories of commuting in the Bay Area before I broke down and bought an automobile a few years ago. In my phone, in the notes section, I have a long rambling story written out in disjointed scenes that were written on the hour train work to and from work based on the riders of B.A.R.T. I've often thought about putting them together and writing it out completely but it seems disrespectful to change what I wrote on those lonely rides. But this is about the above piece, and wow, I loved the darkness around the edges and the descriptive nature of the scene. Very well done flash. Me likes it muchly. J
  4. This wrecked me, in all the right spots. Vivid memory with stream of consciousness that painted the picture so perfectly sad. Very good piece that I will read several more times tonight. J
  5. Only Camy can write something that makes me blush a bit...I've missed reading your stuff your crazy emu. J
  6. Hahaha. I'll let him know you called him that not me. J
  7. I must admit, I have thought indepth that I should open my own hot wing place. I have the knowledge , the experience running a business, and definitely the love of hot wings... as for "N" being a nick, I'll never tell. J
  8. It’s Thursday, September 21st, 2017 and I’m in Daly City California. It’s my day off, nothing special about that except that “N” is working the morning shift and I have the whole day off to do whatever I want. If I want to stay in bed all day naked, watching YouTube videos, I can. Or if I want to do a marathon of jerking off to free porn on the whole interwebs, I can and no one can say anything about it. And don’t think I didn’t contemplate that last one this morning after waking up with a full on robot chubby that wouldn’t go away that defies all logic for a forty-two year old man. One of the reasons I was so happy with growing older was the mistaken thinking that my libido would diminish with the onset of old age. And yes, I know that forty-two isn’t old compared to some of the other humans that populate this planet nor am I saying that forty-two is old. All I’m saying is that I was really hoping that I wouldn’t be the horny man I was in my twenties. The man/boy that slept with the butt-crack of dawn for no other reason then I couldn’t think straight the moment things became erect. And to be truthful, that was the only reason I slept with a little person when I was 22. And because I wondered if his cock looked like a normal sized cock, for the record it did. Nor was it because I wanted to see how massive my cock would look like going in and out of his little butt. For the record he was a top…but that’s another story. Why at my age do I still wake up with a hard-on? And even more curiously, why am I still horny the moment my boyfriend walks into the room? When will I get the dreaded EDS the TV tells me happens to every man over forty? For Christ sakes, I’m in my forties, do I still have to contend with my cock boning up with every stiff breeze that comes along? My boyfriend left at 7:15 this morning to go to work. Apparently he had a few private parties and several larger groups for breakfast and needed to make sure he was there in plenty of time to oversee this madness. And right after he left, I lay in bed with my other head ready for some fun. So I did what every man/boy does when his penis is taking over…that’s right, I got up and turned on my X-Box 360 and started playing Assassins Creed 3. And if you are wondering, I did not feel like a pervert playing games at 7:30am with a boner. Nor did I have a brief/thirty minute fantasy what it would be like to have sex with Conner from the game. And I am talking about a full thirty minutes of constructing a complicated story of what point in the game we would meet, the details of our first awkward encounter that slowly builds over time until we climax on the grass overlooking the manor with Achilles somewhat reluctant approval as he looks on. Besides my raging hard-on, the only thing I wanted to do today on this glorious day off, was to get hot wings from Buffalo Wild Wings in Daly City, Ca in the Serramonte Centre. I believe that everyone who has been reading my Blog for any amount of time…mostly a few years ago when I actually updated my Blog more than once every few years, would know that I am quite addictive to all things hot…exclusively hot wings. I will go to any amount of trouble to acquire those artery clogging morsels of ecstasy. Lie to policeman, check, leave work early on a faulty pretense, check. I’m not saying I would kill a human for those tasty treats, but don’t be the asshole that makes my life difficult at work and then stand in between me and those chickens that are fried in fat and then tossed in hot deliciousness. Seriously, don’t do that because I’m not sure what or who I would choose. Better to error on the side of caution then test my morals when it comes to hot wings. When “N” left for work, I was horny and really needed to release but I started playing video games instead of taking things in hand as it were. Then after driving myself to the brink of madness wondering what it would be like to have sex with a 3-D construct, I really needed to curb my horniness with something tangible. I played Assassins Creed 3 until 11am. I know, that’s like three and half hours playing a game. But all I was doing was waiting until Buffalo Wild Wings opened so I could indulge in man’s simplest pleasures. Okay, seeing as I was talking about jerking off, I wanted to indulge in man’s second simplest pleasure, the consumption of Hot Wings. At 11:25, I called in my order to Buffalo Wild Wings. May I have a medium traditional wings, all hot BBQ extra extra extra extra wet, with a side of Blazing sauce, a Chili Queso Dip with no pico de guillo. I don’t really give a shit if I spelled that wrong. I’ve lived in the Bay Area for thirteen years. I started going to Buffalo Wild Wings sometime in the last three years. Just so I can give you full disclosure, I’ve ordered the exact same order at least once a week for the last three years. It might have been longer/shorter, but I’ve spent way too much fucking money on this addiction that will probably put me in an early grave. I arrived at Buffalo Wild Wings at 12:30pm, because I stopped at the grocery store to buy Fosters beer and Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey. But before I talk about my Buffalo Wild Wings experience, I stopped at the local Lucky Grocery Store to do two things. First, I wanted to exchange my bag full of coins, they have a coin star that you can exchange your coins into money. When I first walked into the store, can you believe there was a line to use the coin star machine. Three people in front of me and I joined the line as I was listening to Penn’s Sunday School Podcast and really not in a hurry. After about five minutes, the guy leaves and the next guy goes to the machine and places a paper bag on the counter. His actions was hidden with his body, but after a few minutes and I didn’t here the sounds of the machine counting the coins to convert into money, I peered to my left and noticed that he had a paper bag filled with already rolled and packaged coins. The type of packaging that looks like when you get coins from a bank. And he was slowly breaking open the rolled coins and putting them into the counting thingy. “Fuck this” I thought and walked back to my car to place my oversized container in my trunk. All I wanted to do was cash in my coins, it wasn’t like I needed the coins to buy my groceries. I then walked back into the store and grabbed two bottles of diet coke, three 24 ounces of Fosters beer, and a 750ml of Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey whiskey. I walked to the front of the store, and they only had two registers open, and they had to have at least ten people in each line. Of course, the self check-out lines was completely empty, but seeing as you can’t buy alcohol in the self check-out lines, that really didn’t help me. “Fuck this” I thought as I dropped my basket and walked out of the grocery store. After all, I had lots of places I could buy beer and whiskey without waiting in line on my day off. I drove to Serramonte Mall, where Buffalo Wild Wings opened a massive store. When I walked into the store, it was 12:30, almost forty minutes from the time I called in my order. I walked up to the counter and there was three younger girls behind it talking amongst themselves. It felt like five minutes before I was even greeted but it was probably less than a minute. But sixty seconds is a long fucking time to stand somewhere where three different people can see you and no one even says hello. Seriously, right now, just start counting to sixty in your head and imagine you standing at a counter with someone standing behind it yet not saying a single word to you. It feels like forever right. That’s how I felt. Finally after three hours/thirty seconds, someone says hello. I give my name, they read my order back to me, medium traditional wings, all hot BBQ extra extra extra wet, side of blazing sauce, chile queso dip no pico de guillo, that will be 30.92. I give them my card, I total it 35.00 dollars and she says, your order isn’t ready it will be another five minutes. I sit down on the bench and continue listening to Penn’s Sunday School podcast. After eight minutes, I walk back to the counter and inquire about the status of my order. This is when the girl behind the counter decided to tell me, “There was a mix up of your order and they are re-making it, it’s not that busy so it should only be another 15 minutes.” I’m not mad that they lost my order, I’ve worked in the restaurant industry for more than twenty years, I understand that mistakes happen and orders get lost. If they would have said something to me when I paid for my order, I would’ve sat there quietly while they figured it out. But they didn’t tell me that when I paid, what they said was it would be another five minutes. And yes, I was really enjoying Penn’s Sunday School podcast, but I was also watching them. It’s a habit I’ve picked up over my years of running restaurants, I always watch the staff members. And in my watching, I saw that they were talking amongst themselves, pointing at me, and pointing back at the kitchen. Then I also observed them getting on the phone, gesturing towards me again, and then a minute or two later, a manager walked up to the front and started looking at the computer while looking at me everyone moment or two. But I understand that things happen and though I knew deep down in my heart that something happened to my order, I was waiting patiently. But after waiting eight mintues, knowing that something was wrong, and rightly/wrongly waiting for them to explain what happened to my order, I walked up to the front only to be told off-handedly, that they were re-making the order and that something happened. No apology, no saying they are doing everything they can to fix it, no offering a soda while I wait for the order to be corrected, nothing from the manager at all. And I will be the first to admit, I was pissed. From 7:30 in the morning, all I could think about was getting Buffalo Wild Wings, getting beer and whiskey and watching the remake of Magnificent Seven. And once again, Buffalo Wild Wings fucks up my plans. Earlier I told you that I have been ordering from Buffalo Wild Wings for longer than I can remember. What I never admitted too, was that they screw up my order at least 1 out of 5 times. Now before you ask me why I continue to go back to the place that fucks up my order that often, I will point out that I have an addiction and I will always need hot wings in my life. Always. I am rather proud that I didn’t yell, or demand some kind of free stuff, all I said was I’ve been waiting for almost 50 minutes and I want my money back. I want to say again, that Buffalo Wild Wings have screwed up my order so many times that I am immune to their incompetency and always check my order before leaving the restaurant. Over the years, I’ve gotten to know the front of house staff, and have seen lots of staff and managers come and go. And usually all I do is smile and take whatever bad experience they throw at me because in the end I get what I need, Hot Wings. I’ve seen great FOH staff, who cares but mess up continually, bad FOH staff that can’t get an order right if there was a gun to their head. And everything in between. And before you say, the FOH staff can’t control the kitchen, I know that. But Buffalo Wild Wings put the ticket on the bag, and I’ve seen the ticket never mention that I want no pico de guillo in my Chili Queso Dip. I’ve seen tickets that never says extra extra extra wet on my Hot BBQ wings. That is not a kitchen error, that is a FOH mistake. And what really pissed me off today, when the manager told me they lost my ticket and was remaking the order, what pissed me off, she turned away and started talking to the girl next to her about the date she had the night before. And I will be the first to admit, I’m not a nice guy sometimes. I have a sharp wit and sometimes it can be extremely harsh when I’m not at work. That didn’t happen today. I was calm, and politely asked for my money back. The manager looked at me, and said okay. She processed my order, gave me the slip that said my order was voided and that my card would be credited for the amount. She then turned away from me again and resumed her story about the night before. For the first time in my life, and it has already been established that I am forty-two, I looked up the corporate office and sent an email detailing my experience. I didn’t demand my money back, nor did I swear and lose my mind which is what I would normally do. Instead I detailed my experience today, and asked for them to try and fix the issues that seem to happen at each and every Buffalo Wild Wing I have ever frequented. I said, “I wish I could quit you, because after giving you so much money over the years and having so many issues with your staff, I wish I could quit you, but I probably won’t because I love hot wings so much”. It’s been five hours and I haven’t heard anything back from their website complaint department and I wasn’t really surprised. When you are such a huge corporation, people are going to give you money no matter what and that they believe that with all the new guests they get each week, they really don’t care about existing guests. But that logic is flawed, and what they don’t seem to understand, sooner or later they are going to run out of new guests and there will be no one left to try their restaurant. I spend so much of my energy making sure that all my guests are taken care of, I sometimes have nothing left to give to my boyfriend after a long day at work. I left Buffalo Wild Wings with the idea that I would go to my local Hot Wing place that doesn’t really have spicy hot wings but have decent hot wings that I could purchase and then add my ghost pepper sauce to kick them to another level. But when I arrived at their establishment, they were closed for remodel. And then went to another hot wing place in Daly City and they were out of hot wings until 1pm because there shipment didn’t arrive on time. It’s now 5pm and I’m at home. I did get my beer, and my whiskey, and I’m rather drunk, which is why if this Blog entry has mistakes or a rambling feel to it, it’s not my fault I’m on an empty stomach and rather drunk. I still have a hard-on, I have no hot wings, and my boyfriend isn’t home yet from work. Sometimes life just sucks no matter how hard you try and maintain positivity.
  9. Jason Rimbaud

    Blink of an Eye

    Thanks Cole. By the way I wrote a new blog post just for you. J
  10. Knock knock whos there god god who godzilla j
  11. That's freaking funny right there no matter who you are. J
  12. Or they become restaurant managers. We are all bastards. J
  13. Jason Rimbaud

    Blink of an Eye

    Welcome back RJ, I too have been off and on for the last several years myself. It's a good thing you are still alive. J
  14. This is my third day of being off, and I’m not feeling that good right now. I think my liver is mad at me and/or dying. Either way, I’m feeling poopy so I decided to sit down and type out a blog entry. Let me start off by saying, my life is going pretty well for the last few years. And since “N” came into my life back in January, I really have nothing to complain about. I have an amazing boyfriend who I love insanely, a job that doesn’t suck and pays a ridiculous amount of money even before I get my quarterly bonus. And thus far, since January, I’ve hit my bonus every quarter. I bought an amazing condo this year, on a hill overlooking the ocean. And on a clear day, I can just make out some of the taller buildings in downtown San Francisco. And a month ago, I bought a brand new car, my first since 2005. Two months ago, on my way to work at 5:40am, heading northbound on 101 into San Francisco, my car engine blew up and I was stranded on the highway in line number one. I’m not scared to admit that I was pretty scared as cars flew by me doing 70 plus miles an hour. Seeing that tow truck pull up behind me was an amazing feeling let me tell you. But let me again repeat, my life isn’t even remotely bad or stressful. So I can hear you asking, why am I typing this blog entry today? What could have possibly happened in my almost perfect life that would get me off the couch and share something dark and twisted with all of you? Maybe it as because Cole told me that he missed my writing. Or maybe because I feel like things are going a bit too well and I’m waiting for the other boot to drop. And trust me, that is a very real fear of mine, because lately it seems the only thing falling from the sky is fuzzy bunny slippers. Could it be that though “N” is almost a perfect boyfriend, maybe not everything is working out in the bedroom? Is that what you are thinking? Are you really wondering about my sex life with “N”? All the dirty details of naked bodies under the sheets. Because I think that is asking way too much of me and I might stop typing this if you are going to be asking those kind of things. My sex life with “N” is none of your business thank you very much. If I actually would take the time to research this, I’d know the exact date I am referring too but if you are that interested you can look it up yourself. A few days/weeks/months ago, the crazy inhabitants of San Francisco suffered through a record breaking heat wave that rose to 106 on that Saturday. And trust me, the normal weather conditions here have no call for air conditioning. Just stop and think about that for a moment. 106 degrees without any air conditioning in city that is almost always covered in fog and mist. Trust me, I have never had so many complaints ranging from this beer isn’t cold enough to my salad is hot. After a few hours of dealing with bitchy guests due to the heat, I started saying at least your not back in that kitchen, where the temperature was soaring to 110 plus. That shut up most of the guests. During the hottest part of the day, guests would come into our restaurant, feel the heat, and turn around and walk right back out. It was so miserable, and I kept changing shirts as every few hours I would completely sweat through my shirt. Nothing worse than having a person serving you food that is dripping sweat into your hot salad. After it was all said and done, I had changed shirts three times. On a separate note, I did write a thank you note to Old Spice deodorant, cause I still smelled fresh after that blistering day. (I actually don’t wear Old Spice deodorant but I can’t remember the brand I actually do wear and the bathroom is all the way across the house and I don’t want to get up and look) Don’t judge me, I’m hung-over. Have you ever been so miserably hot that you can barely think straight? We all know, the heat does crazy things to our brains and after spending hours trying to calm down all the metaphorically fires that erupted due to the heat, that I was completely spent by the time I crawled inside my car and cranked the air conditioning to full blast. People don’t realize how hard running a restaurant can be. No matter what happens, I have to keep calm and always put the good of the restaurant above anything else. So the amount of abuse I often take from rude guests leaves me somewhat silent when I’m not at work. Being happy and cheery for eight hours a day, that usually by the time I’m finished with work, my give-a-shitter is completely empty. Add all that usual bullshit but compound it by 11, and I was in a pretty foul mood. Those of you that are from our hotter states and who are accustom to those kind of temperature might not sympathize with me, so all I can say to you, fuck off, we all can’t be as tough as you. It was so fucking hot outside, that my poor little car couldn’t keep up with the temperature I was demanding of it that my car started overheating. So for parts of the commute home, I had to turn off the air so my car wouldn’t stop working. So after giving all my kindness at work that day, I didn’t have much left for anyone, much less my boyfriend, by the time I made it back to my house. Now, before you ask, “N” and I have maintained separate apartments, mainly because I’m not happy about the neighborhood he lives in. Seriously, my car has been broken into three times in two months in his place. Plus, his place his pretty small, and as I have mentioned in the past, he is not the cleanest person I have met. And he doesn’t like my place only because I live in Daly city, on a hill, overlooking the ocean, and it’s a bit far for him to commute to work. He doesn’t drive and I’m not that close to our underground, and the nearest bus stop is half mile away, but on the way back, it’s a half mile up a hill, and I can’t blame him for not wanting to walk up that hill after working all day. And before you start yelling at me that I’m a bad boyfriend for not driving him around. We work completely different schedules most of the time and its not that easy. Jeesh, get off my back, I try to pick him up or drop him off at work as much as I can but sometimes I need to get my beauty sleep. So needless to say, we spend most of our time at his place, and he rarely comes to my place unless we both have the day off. My condo has air conditioner, and “N’s” does not. Matter of fact, he only has one window that opens so all of us can imagine how hot his apartment must have been that day. So on that hot day a few days/weeks/months ago, I texted him while I was heading home and informed him in no uncertain terms that I would not be staying at his house like we had originally planned. And again before you yell at me, of course I offered for him to come back to my place and enjoy the cold on that stupidly hot day. Its not my fault he didn’t want to make that journey up that long hill after his shift ended. I even offered to get a lyft for him but he refused. So there. This is the part in this story when I tell you that both of us run highly successful restaurants so our schedules rarely match up and its something of a juggling act to coordinate time together that doesn’t involve us watching the other sleep. I know its weird, but we actually like spending time together in or out of the sheets. But relationships are better when both parties are awake at other times than just sex. And really, stop asking about our sex lives. It doesn’t matter who tops or bottoms. We are in a loving committed relationship and its not your concern. Have I mentioned that “N” is an Indian that was born in Malaysia. He has just a hint of an accent that makes my heart skip a beat each time he talks. And he’s been here for years so he’s pretty much Americanized. Let me set the stage for you, I’m at my house, taken a cold shower, and am now sitting in my living room naked, watching season five of 24. Its been about three hours since I’ve gotten home and im finally starting to feel normal again. So he texts me and demands that I pick him up at work. Now think about this, I get up usually around 4am and leave work around 2pm. He goes to work at 4pm and gets home around midnight. So when he demands that I come get him, it means that I would only get four hours of sleep. And maybe I would have, if it wouldn’t have been Saturday night, and the next morning I would have to deal with Sunday brunch again, another heat wave, and more bitchy guests. So I tell him that I can’t but that I would see him the next day. I was planning on seeing him at work and having dinner. But he gets really mad and starts a barrage of angry texts. I’ve had a few hours up to this point to cool off and get my head back on straight. I know he’s still in the middle of the heat and his mind isn’t in the right frame to have a logical discussion about the merits of sleep or my lack of love for him. And for a while, I keep that fact in my mind and ignore some of the more hurtful things he said/typed to me. You know those kind of comments that only someone who love you can make that send you right around the twist. They know all your faults and fears, and can use them in the most horrible ways when they are mad at you. After more than a few insults, I started firing back with both barrels blazing. And for an hour or so, we go back and forth, calling each other horrible names, brining up old argurments, basically being awful to each other. What got my blood really boiling though, was he said I didn’t love him since I didn’t want to come pick him up and that I was selfish that I wanted to sleep instead of picking him up in my air conditioned car. I throw my phone across the room and storm around my apartment waiting for 11pm. That’s the time when I am going to go to his work and tell him off face to face. There was no way I was going to wait until I see him the next day. And while I’m waiting, I’m rehearsing all the things I want to say to him, I’m not going to hold anything back. I plan on bringing up past things that I let go but never really forgotten about. It’s going to be epic, I’m actually looking forward to yelling at him, maybe because I’m so nice during my day job that I can get out all my aggression on him. Or maybe its because I’m a baby but I’m not going to tell him any of that. Fuck no, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. It’s after 11 and I’m driving like a mad man all the way across San Francisco to his restaurant which has the most lovely view of the Bay Bridge. I arrive right at 11:30 and just wait outside, seething the entire time I’m waiting. About 11:45, he comes out of the restuarnt and locks the front door. After he locks the door, he picks up a bag and looks around until he sees my car across the street. The moment he sees me, he smiles and starts walking to the car unhurriedly. I’m not going to lie, when he smiled at me a bunch of my anger went away. But I wasn’t going to let this go and he had no right to say/type some of those things to me. I opened the car door and stood up, ready to give him a good tongue lashing. The last four steps he runs and jumps into my arms and kisses me until I can’t think straight. After a few minutes, he stops and hands me the bag, saying, “I got you your favorite.” “Why” I’m a bit shocked. “Because I knew you wouldn’t eat dinner because you were mad at me.” Fuck him, though he was right. I hadn’t eaten dinner. “How’d you know I would even be here tonight? This whole thing started because I refused to pick you up tonight.” He looks at me, smiles the biggest brightest smile I’ve even seen and says, “Babe, I know you better than anyone, why do you think I said all those thing to you, I had to make you come here somehow, dumbass.” It was late, around 2am, and we are in his bed, a hot sweaty mess on his bed with one fan blowing around hot stagnant air. He’s snuggled up to me, gently snoring into my shoulder. And I have to been at work in two hours to struggle through another hot day with bitchy guests. Life could not be better and one day, I swear, we are going to be exchanging “I do’s” before our friends. After all, the sex is simply amazing.
  15. Me too, but it was an entirely different type of bird. :P
  16. Hello Camy, just wanted to say Hi!

  17. Love Walked In BY: Jason Rimbaud So tired of waiting Using only my hand I am looking for someone To better understand And all these grindr hook-ups Are like sinking into sand I don't want a dumpster I'm looking for a heart to lend In search of somebody A lover and a friend I feel like loser When will it end In a sudden moment He danced into my life There something in his smile And it was more than all right After hanging out for hours We made love into the night From that moment on We've been more than having fun So many happy nights And glorious days in the sun I don't want to jinx it But to him I'll always run God I'm feeling goofy
  18. I've found I have always loved boy things! :) I've seen similiar habits throughout my life. Gross on so many levels. You've always been so nice to me over the years. Once upon a time, back in my sluttier days, I once went home with this hot guy, which means for me he was tall and lanky and pretty much a nerd with glasses. His apartment wasnt too bad when we entered, didn't smell to awful, though there was a bunch of dirty dishes in the sink. After making out a bit in the kitchen area, we went to his bedroom. It was disgusting, the moment he opened the door I was hit with dirty clothes, probably sweaty gym shorts and the smell of dried cum. Like he had been cumming everyday for a year on his sheets and never washed them. Needless to say, he was completely confused when I just laughed and said i had to go. How can some people live in filth so casually? Anyway Jason
  19. I have the day off, first one in a pretty long time that the Boyfriend is working. Not saying he isn't the cleanest person on the planet, but he's messy as fuck. So I really needed to clean the house while he's not around so he won't distract me by dancing around the house in his undies. Though that does make me feel like fuzzy bunny slippers when he does. So I needed some motivation to clean this filthy house. I searched through my almost one thousand movies and decided on re-watching Season 5 of 24. I made myself some tuna salad, toasted my artisan sweet batard bread, thinly sliced some sharp cheddar cheese, salt and vinagear chips on the side, sat down in my kitchen and switched on Hour number one. Five hours later, the house is not only still dirty, I haven't cleared the dishes from breakfast, so in fact, it is actually dirtier than it was when i started. And to make it even more upsetting, I think I fell in love with Keifer Sutherland's ass. So much for cleaning motivation. Though to be honest, I do have the urge to...err..polish something else entirely, thus making the house dirtier still. Having a great day off. J
  20. Rest In Peace Jerry Lewis. You brought joy to so many and definitely got me through some rough times. No matter how much craziness in my life, pop in one of your movies and I could always forget for a while. Jasn
  21. I don't need any more reasons to never want kids...just work in a restaurant for a week and thats all the ressons you'll ever need. Jason Rimbaud
  22. Believe it or not, the whole reason I did this was to train my assistant to do inventory so I would no longer have too. My BF is not happy with me working so much. The other day he was so frisky and right in the middle of the act I fell asleep. Needless to say I'm still not forgiven for that. Luckily he loves my bald head. J
  23. Very bad Cole...my buns are the perfect shade of workaholic white. I'd show you but I don't want you to become blind j
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