IF YOU OWN THIS BLOG, PLEASE CONTACT james at onedev dot org

our names must be VERY similar, as I have been getting some of your email for about a year now, password resets, insurance quotes, etc. Google is fucking our email!

What a crazy weekend it was. I just need to share this with someone other than the parties involved. Where to start..well Thursday was one emotionally tough, exhausting day at work. So, like any other sane, rational, working individual would do, I went out for a few…fuck this post for now. I have cooler shit to do, like play with my Visual Studio 2005 and C#, nerdy? Yes. Fuck yes. But I think I did enough this weekend to suffice socially. So fuck you. Fuck me. Get off the god damn internet, unless you’re earning flow.

Ok, this is going to be quick. Well actually, this is taking longer than I thought it would. I already had a post made up and then BAM fucking storm knocks out the internet. But anyway, here it is, 2006 and I’m doing exactly what it is I thought I’d be doing at this time, chilling. This year I made no resolutions. I like it better that way. Way less stress. I mean, fuck, don’t we get enough stress from the outside world? Why in the hell should we go imposing goals upon ourselves. Goals that if they were actually atainable, we’d have accomplished them by now. If I hear of one more persons physical fitness goals, quit smoking goals, etc, I’ll shoot them, then myself. Your fat n’ lazy, or addicted. Get over it. Come to grips with who you are. Life will be much easier for you and the rest of us. Anyway, I am listening to a kick ass CD right now. The Postal Service It is definately worth a listen if you ask me. I just heard it the other day and decided that it was worth owning. So worth it, I actually bought it. No, no, I didn’t actually go out and purchase a CD, I went to iTunes and downloaded it. F’n a man, maybe that will be my realalistic goal of 2006, I’ll quit stealing music…and you know what, I’ll fail, just like the rest of you resolution toting morons. Misery loves company. Take care, and until next time.

That will be me, tomorrow. Went out today but ran out of time. Needless to say, I didn’t pick a damn thing up for me. I need to go back out tomorrow and pick up the much coveted new year’s eve outfit.

Speaking of tomorrow, I have prior obligations to go out for drinks after work. Sounds fun enough, but I’m not sure about doing it the day before the biggest party of the year. For most it would be safe, but hey, I’m like Pringles, once I pop I just can’t stop!

So, there’s this chick I somewhat know at work(we’re both less than 90 days at the company) while we don’t speak much, we email often, back and forth, like 30 emails a week. She has what we like to call butterface. Incase you don’t know what that is…well she has a banging ass body..like booya, but her face isn’t all that great. Not nasty, but no serious knock out. How shallow? Maybe, but then again, I used to be married to a model/stripper who is just to die for. So yeah, she fucked my standards all up. I mean I do care about personality depth too. That is what it takes to get me sexually interested in the first place. But, I also have this need for a trophy on my arm too. We are getting off on a tanget right now. No big deal. We can finish that aspect of me later, or better yet, over time. Anyway, back to this chick, well she is going out with us tomorrow and I know when I start to feel tipsy I’ll become flirtatious. I don’t know her well enough to know how she will take it. I haven’t been around her enough at work to learn how to read her. Speaking of which, that is something else I am quite good at…reading people like books. Fuck, well I need some sleep, long busy day tomorrow.

Well they are free, just not legal. Check out the collection I stumbled across.

Books, free books.

They’re all tech books, good reference material none the less.

‘guess who’s back, back again, tell some friends….’ Yeah that’s right kids, I’m back. If ya don’t know, you’d better ask someone. So much for the intro. You should know I hate this shit.