went to pita pit with jimmy today.
saw forrest. talked a bit. he got his ps2 back from san diego (dave, you fucker, how could you steal it?)
mentioned he just had a birthday. so i had to ask....
19.
19!!!
exeunt.
jimmy and i calculate half your age minus seven and it's not looking good.
jimmy begins to tell me of how i will eventually go into education just to pick up and stuff like that. sigh. not cool.
what the fuck, you're only young once.
i walk back into the pita pit:
"so, forrest, now that you're 19, you wanna go for drinks or something?"
"it's gotta be next week cause i'm working all this week"
"but uh, you wanna go?"
"yeah, totally"
"can i get some way of contacting you?"
"here's my number."
"i don't ask out all the pita pit dudes, by the way."
"good"
help.
i am trapped in the confines of a dark castle being forced to code a beastly monster of an app without any regard for design.
a rescue is desperately needed.
interested applicants can reply or storm the castle at 2660 oak street in vancouver. preference will be given to princes on horseback (or bikes or skateboards) with puppies and apple chips.
only successful applicants will rescue the princess.
went to whistler this weekend.
there is not a lot of snow there right now. sorry to disappoint you all, but all the days that it in raining in van, it seems to be raining in whistler.
yuck.
a lot of vice city was played.
so i'm not sure if dave reads this, but one of his fish died the other day. there are mysterious circumstances around the fish death.
i bought new fish. my one fish was way too aggressive for the new fish, so i figured, hey, maybe dave's fish could teach it a lesson. and they did teach it a lesson. unfortunately, the lesson seemed to be: "before you can run with our crew, you have to kill that one fish that keeps hanging around with us and cramping our style"
ok, maybe it didn't happen like that. before yellow fish entered the tank of aggression, there was one of dave's fish that wasn't hanging out with the other three as much. and it was slower and getting picked on a lot. then the yellow fish wasn't being taunted and wasn't doing the taunting. but monday morning, one of dave's fish was dead and the other fish were all eating at it.
sorry dave. i am irresponsible.
but now all the other fish are really getting along well. so if you ever come to get your fish back, there is a new fish running in their crew as some sort of common thug.
we were halfway into 'fear and loathing in las vegas' when the drugs kicked in....
suddenly, my CTO and i were on our way to mac's for an energy drink and chip-like product. as i exited the store, i noticed a collective of communists in a yugo parked outside. it seemed we were surrounded.
i followed tim as he stealthily manoevered around the pinko bastards and headed across the road. would they suspect us as having been sent to infiltrate their ranks and expose their communist tactics?
we rendezvoused at the swings to regroup after our encounter with the communists. after determining that the puddles beneath the swings were filled with crocodiles and demons, we set off in search of the american dream.
"as your attorney, i advise you to stop typing in your log. immediately!"
last night the following people were fortunate enough to get fed by me (courtesy of timO and ben's wallets, it seemed): ben, chris, farshad, grant, tim, urbanski. i made: roast beast, gravy, roast potatoes, yams, carrots, onions, grilled asparagus and some sort of cheese plate, and of course, apple pie.
this is mostly an entry to make warren jealous for not being here for the meat-fest.
went to dieselboy at sonar last night. it was wicked fun. dieselboy and the mc whose name i can't remember were so dope. i wish sonar was bigger or that people who dance to dnb/jungle would take up less space or something.
i can't believe i made it to work today.
so you know you've been playing vice city too long when you're walking to work and see a fire truck outside a building that may or may not have been on fire. it's unattended. and running. it took all my self-control not to jack it and take it to work.
and it's a good thing i didn't or i would have missed a full size refigerator falling from a pickup truck in the middle of the intersection of broadway and fir.
i got the pita pit dude's name yesterday. it is forrest. spelling to be confirmed later. we were all, like talking about vice city, and he was all like, i totally want to play that so badly; oh i wish i could try that game out. and this was after i told him i bought it.
is that a good sign?
please don't let pita-pit dude be a reader of my blog.
treatment planning software.
i use it as the input for the application that i am making. in fact, we report on stuff from it.
i may have just broken my nda.
but essentialy, i work with tps reports. the worst is the cover sheets.
i've been a fan of oil of olay since the "miss fitzhenry?" "bugsy brown" commercial.
i bought their total effect cream when i saw some crow's feet appearing in the corners of my eyes. tv promised more youthful skin in a matter of days.
i got a lot of zits.
"get it, ben?"
i'm still on that freesweep thing. like, what if it was real life? you're sitting there, clearing mines in cambodia...and then you get them all, and the world implodes.
sometimes oldest and dearest friends get older. today is one of those days. big hugs and kisses for the birthday boy today.
props go out to chris_charpentier for helping me log a solid 6 hours on vice city saturday night. many advances were made in the game. sometimes i just like to play to listen to the radio stations. the commercials are outstanding.
in matters of spicy food, it is not always worth the risk.