and cuz im a moron. here i have another four-day weekend coming up, plenty of time to spend all night playing stupidly addictive video games, and there i was last night Starting a new game instead of cleaning my house or working on my site. whatever.
ashley called last night at around 2am and we talked for a good hour and a half as i was building my empire. she really wants me to come to vegas for my lil vacation and i’d really like to go, but all the presents i bought you all over Christmas has broken me and it looks like i’ll have to focus my carnal attentions domestically. and watch some football. and not shave for a few more days. and clean my house. and do my laundry. and paint my bed room. and not do shit. and ask out this girl at work. and finish this book im reading. and get Layne his mail. and pay my ridiculous phone bill.
i tell you these things because im still getting baffling emails from people including a few where the fellas think that life aint nothin but bitches and money. gentlemen, to a point, that’s all true. but i know you play The Sims, and i’m not the cleanest Sim, i will put my food right on the ground after ive cooked it. And anyone who has played that game knows that either you have to get a clean Sim to cohabitate with or you have to spend a little extra gametime tidying up the domicile, and now is that time.
Speaking of which, my former boss left the other day and told me that he built a Sim house where he made a room with no windows or doors and just starved his little guy out. Funny, but, ok, not so funny. It was funny at the time.
Ashley wasnt happy with yesterday’s story about Mariah. She wants every entry to be about her, who can blame her. I told her that nothing in here is true, she said, no i saw some truth in there. I said yeah, I watched the Clippers game, that was about it. She said, please come out here I will do anything once you arrive. I said anything? she said anything. i said you’ll dress up like a surfer girl and sit on my lap at the Bellagio Sports Book and fetch me cocktail weenies as we watch the Raiders on Saturday and the Bears on Sunday, she said anything.
I said, would you go to Gameworks with me and be the shooter while I drive on that one Jurrassic Park game, then ride the coaster at New York New York, then escort me over to the bowling alley and watch me bowl and then join me in the hot tub where we debate the influence of the designated hitter on the decline of baseball and then adjourn with me to the room where we watch “Baby Boy” on pay-per-view repeatedly and then raid the breakfast buffet in the early morn? She said, anything.
Which just goes to prove that sometimes it’s good to have a little extra cash stashed away so that you can fulfil the dreams of a sweet teen princess who will have to spend new years alone on her laptop in a chat room instead of at a bowling alley at a casino with a fading superstar.
So save your nuts, little squirrels, winter has just begun.