someone turn it off!

i need an ipod. i think i'm the last *sshole left in chicago without one- and i want it for one reason: to whip george's pod in an ipod battle at work. i'd pummel him. example- now playing: red hot chili peppers "airplane." (and customers are singing along, as if i'm a goddam talent scout in disguise, and i'm here to "discover" them... like i'm going to rip out of my dirty red work polo and have a snazzy suit on underneath with a solid gold pen in one hand and a contract for "american idol" in the other. and my hair would look good. and i'd have some diamond inlays in my front tooth. tastefully.) come on. i'd rather listen to the muppet's theme song on repeat. forever. which reminds me- i finally saw "me and you and everyothermuthrf*ker on the block" friday night. brilliant... i wanted to catch it earlier in the day; i was out in the burbs to detail foxycoxy's car (which was probably one of the more satisfying cleans i've ever done, let me tell you), and had planned to meet up with my old friend "non-practicing-homosexual-who-dabbles-in-tarot" (aka NPHWDIT, who is the brother to creepy old man-boss). so i sought out "me and you", to no avail. what's a poor queer to do in schamburg to kill time instead of watching "batman begins" or "duce bigelow, european gigolo?" what's that? exactly. browse at h&m. cause i'm doing really well with the browsing for crap i can't buy and don't really even want... but i came across a 98% linen, 2% slave labor sweat (with "warning: may contain interwoven finger bits" hazard label) pinstriped suit mis-marked for $14. how can you pass up a thing like that?

i never did make it over to NPHWDIT, partly because i'd had enough of the burbs, partly cause my new glasses were ready 3 days early, and partly because i know he'd read my tarot. i'm in too good of a mental place to have that play with my head, whether i believe in it or not. cause i say i don't. but then i act like i do. poop.