One Sunday a month, Michele has lunch with a girlfriend I that have never met. She is anti-social so I supported and very much encouraged her to get out of the house to relax without the kids and make some new friends. She doesn’t have a lot of friends that I haven’t met or that I haven’t tried to get in their pants. I can let her have one of those kinds of friends or maybe even two. Generosity is one of my more charming traits.
She gets dressed in a cute outfit and leaves me with the kids. I don’t mind being left with the kids because it gives me a much needed opportunity to remember their names and get to know them better. They are around the house somewhere while I’m writing this. She mentions this new friend casually but I don’t know anything about her. I suspect I may never even meet her. What I do know is she takes pictures of the food she eats but never a photo of her dining companion. I see photos the likes of tasty appetizers and pulled pork entrees. For all I know, she could actually be having a relationship with someone from the Internet.
What I do know is that I am jealous. I don’t want a friend to myself and I would actually be proud if she was having some steamy Internet affair. I am only jealous because I want some of those god damn nachos.
I taught my son how to play poker and this is the house he built with all the money he won from me.
Most of my staff is out today for the bazillionth Jewish holiday. I almost forgot but luckily I put it on my calendar.
I bought the domain
I setup the web hosting
I have created websites before
Noticed I didn’t use the word “designed”
I am drinking an energy drink at 11PM
I am exhausted
I have an 8AM staff meeting tomorrow
I don’t think I am going to make any progress on this site again tonight
Luckily I have a good head start on not getting this thing done.
When your wife gets a Twitter account, it means she knows you are cheating.
When your wife gets a Tumblr account it means she got over it because she is fucking someone from the Internet too.
Is Follow Friday when the hot bitch at work who doesn’t wear underwear leaves early and you run to your car to get the chloroform and Third Eye Blind mix CD your ex made you before she dumped you for the guy at Game Stop with all those high scores? No, then I’m not interested.
Sometimes you think that she doesn’t love you anymore until she gets a pedicure and sends you this picture of the tits of some spanish chick because you are both dirty whores.
Something about the value of my dignity
Reasons to live