07/24/2005 - 12:17 p.m. | who wants indian food 4

Sx

That is what I last typed on the laptop. It�s been sitting there, for weeks, just waiting for me to clarify � or at least spell check � and I�ve got shit. Sorry, buddy. I hope you weren�t some profound thought that just slipped through my fingertips.

OK, so I�ve gone through the entries contained herein � I apparently wrote two of them??? � and I mostly know what needs to be done. Mostly. Of course, I can�t put a date on any of this any more, expounding on, say, when Kirk visited as compared to when the job interview was (and the subsequent worries about drug testing). Actually, I�m sort of afraid to go into it alone. Shiver.

OK, here is a rough approximation for my own purposes:

Kirk came. We ate more mediocre Italian food, saw Land of the Dead and got trashed. Did we see Caleb Cole? Yeah, I fucking think so. The next day we also got trashed. It was the weekend following Turner and Hitch, so we watched the latter for a second time. Kirk and Kyle started drinking their bottle of scotch or bourbon or something at 2 o�clock that day (Kirk has a rule that you don�t drink until noon or the mail comes). That night was karaoke. Kirk can�t sing for shit, which was amusing. Kyle was telling me how they used to be in chorus together, but you would not be able to tell from his rendition of �Brick.� In theory, there was a wet t-shirt party to attend at Brytne�s, but the cool ones did not do so. However, after karaoke, the party came back to us. That guy Dustin was there and said �kway-suh-dill-ahs� while watching the Magic Bullet informercial. There was that creepy Indian guy who never said a word and usually hovered in some corner, always staring, staring. Taylor was around and maybe some of her big friends, including this almost pretty girl with HUGE hammy thighs named Apryl. Jevon tried to hit that, and I invited Allison Helm there, which I guess means I was trying to hit that. It�s weird, though, because Kyle has gone from warning me not to touch her ever to suddenly telling me repeatedly every time he�s drunk that I�ve got to fuck Allison Helm, I�ve just got to. Kyle asked Allison if she wanted to dance with me at Geo�s and she said yes. We did, and she said she hoped I�d ask next time. I brought my Polaroid along and this lady kept giving me money to take pictures. Kirk was drunk and amusing, but not so drunk as to actually want to do Emily. �Fugly� was the term he used, and I laughed and laughed. He is a cool guy, and I like it when he opens up a little� drunk. Mostly he was mean to Kyle, which I assume is why they had me fill in for him when he left. It was a weird makeshift party with a lot of Alanis and very little wet t-shirts, so it�s not as though we missed much. We were up to like 6 again (I watched Hitch once more), and some time was spent in the basement cave, which was weird and maybe sort of erotic. Kirk hid in the back on Smacko�s throne until Kyle finally noticed him and freaked out, thinking it was a dead hobo king. Jevon did not hit that (thankfully) but I finally got to see his game, which was terrible, terrible. But, girls love attention, and he gives it� ham-fistedly. I guess looks and confidence trump all, so I�m just fucked. He was too drunk to exist and more or less absorbed all of my orange juice. Kirk left the next day, and I learned on Monday that I had gotten the job. This was swell and all, but it started up terror in my soul re: the drug testing. I went into elaborate measures, which I may or may not have described (I�ll check). It is difficult to say what I actually did the following weekend. Missy was not here, and I don�t think I was anywhere, so we�ll sort this out when we can. I started at the Housing Authority, and I was boggled by the insanity and the pointlessness of the filing. I met some rabbits and the lady loved tennis. Everyone was ugly. There was no drug test. I might be repeating myself because I�ve said these things in my head so many times that I cannot recall whether or not I actually put them down in words. After that was the fourth weekend, and I think we�re practically caught up from there� except for this current weekend, which I am working on. As well as a adventure involving a troll army or some shit. Lame lame lame.

Hm. It turns out I wrote about some of this. It�s weird, like facing myself as an adversary. I think the main problem is I wrote a lot of these entries at least a little drunk, so details don�t stick as well.

�And over the seas
It�s gotta be at least 100 degrees
And in my room
It�s gotta be at least a thousand degrees�

One crucial thing I did not write to you about was my little shopping list:

-12 pack of unlubricated condoms
-Extra large bottle of B complex vitamins
-Those little handwarmers hunters use
-Ensure Old Person Drink (6 pack)
-Prostate health
-Lectric Shave beforeshave lotion

See, as I said, I very stupidly smoked some weed with Edmund not too long before potential drug testing at the Housing Authority. As such, I suddenly had to enter a dark world of druggies and their little message boards and they all have stupid screennames likes BongHitterChick17 or whatever. I mean, yes, it is a marijuana-related message board; it can probably be assumed you like that particular herb. Must you expound on it that much further? Apparently so. Anyway, I wouldn�t you poor saps digging through that hell, so I will summarize my two fold plan to beat the system.

OK, my best option overall was to smuggle in someone else�s piss. It took a little cajoling, but Kyle finally said he�d help me out with a supply. So! What I�d do is take one of the condoms, rinse it out so it is mostly latex-powder free, have him whizz in it, and seal it with a bread tie (I was going to knot it and poke it with a needle to release the urine, but I guess this way is far easier). Double up on undies, so I can smuggle in the condom (Purchasing tighty whities may have been in order) and then hopefully let loose in the little cup. I was worried about people watching me while I went, but apparently they pretty much only do that with convicts. The bigger issue, it would seem, is piss temperature. It has to be pretty damn hot when they test it, or else they will think something is up (like you added water to it to dilute), and that is practically as bad as a fail. Hence the handwarmers. Cram one of those down my pants with the sample, and flesh burnings aside, the piss will be super toasty. Some people brought thermometers along, but I was a little rushed and a lot strapped for cash. If you are a girl, apparently you are double lucky because you can actually smuggle the sample into your boobs or up your coot. None of that sounds too pleasant, but you want that sweet desk job, right??

Plan B was if I somehow wasn�t allowed access to the sample � that is, dilution of my piss. I only smoke occasionally, and I have a fairly fast metabolism, so hopefully a lot of it was burned through me, but they also test to make sure you don�t down a shit ton of water or whatever either. So there I was going to drink quite a lot of water or Gatorade, but only the day of, because it really can�t do anything for you earlier (I only drank the prostate health tea because I thought it was funny). To make it seem more like piss, though, I�d take the B vitamins because it makes urine as yellow as hell, and I start downing protein shakes because they apparently also test for this creatinineneeeieine stuff which comes about through intake of meat and protein. I ate a lot of meat, too, but for me that mostly meant McDonald�s, and I honestly could not recommend that at all. Anyway, I was never tested, so I can�t say for sure if this all would work, but there were lots of success stories from the potheads, and you know how trustworthy they all are!

And what was the Lectric Shave for? Because I saw the commercial about 50 times during �Star Trek,� and it had convinced me of its merits through not-made-up-sounding statistics (�52% closer!�) and a nonsensical motto: �Blade close, Lectric smooth!� Right on. That is sure to get me fucked by a woman!