1. Thursday, March 21, 2002

    theres always a poll on the wall of the last stall of the xbi 

    for a while above the poll someone wrote “4:20 doodie club” and the maintence people would scrub the wall each evening but they would leave the title up there.

    this morning’s poll was “Would you do Pam Anderson with Hep C?” some guy wrote “already did, xoxo Kid Rock.”

    How did i vote? well, just like for the presidential election, there is a reason why there is a door, a lock, and absolute privacy, so i reserve the right to keep my vote to myself. not that Pam is having problems finding people to oogle her.

    my mom called this morn and there was a young girl sleeping beside me who grumbled “who is it?” i said, “yeah, mom, yeah mom.”

    my mom was calling to see if i had received my package of gym clothes from Target. she had inadvertantly shipped them to the wrong zip code.

    the young girl pouted and turned away from me.

    then my mom went on to tell me that she wasn’t going to give me quite a big Easter basket this year because i always give the stuffed animals to young ladies and cuz i always share the candies with the homeless.

    “ok, mom, sounds good.”

    then she went on to tell me that my sister isnt having the smoothest pregnancy and i should pray for her.

    which brings me to the point of this story.

    when a hot chick ends up spending the night with me, i hardly ever say my prayers and i need to adjust that. usually i either pass out in a heap or im cuddling or shes talking and we’re tangled or something, but rarely do you get one of those, “good night, mariah” “good night, tony.” which is when i usually start my prayers. but somewhere down the line the hotties stopped saying good night to me when they sleep over.

    they just say, “god, that was amazing.”

    and drift off with the angels.

    speaking of angels, thanks RG, for the buck for the Snoop Fund