I'm RICH, BIATCH!

When I go forwards, you go backwards, and somewhere we will meet...

Today I work 2-10:30 (noon to night) and tomorrow's 10:30 (a) to 3 (p), so let me go over yesterday right quick whilst I still have the time and cognizance to do so.

Yesterday I got paid and since my bosses were nagging me about wearing matching white shoes and I'm working this weekend, I decided to go down and get the check. Plus, if I didn't do it yesterday I probably wouldn't've been able to cash it until Monday. So, I wait at the stop in front of my house. There are cones up but there's an obvious pathway set up for the bus. Some of the more observant of you see this cab coming down Broadway with the doors open. I watch the old bus driver shake his shoulders as if to say "What can I do?" as he goes by me. And this is why when I become President, most old people are going to be violently stoned to death. So another 25 minutes goes by until I can catch another bus down the block, and two old ladies use stops before the last one (mine) and take their sweet time getting off the bus. And right then I know I'm not going to catch the NEW trolley I want, and sure enough we end up half a block away watching it roll by. So, because of 3 people taking roughly 45 seconds, I have lost 45 MINUTES before I can get moving downtown. If things had gone as planned I would've been downtown with the check in sight or in hand by this point.

I do make it downtown and catch a better break with the last connection, then it's off to the CC. NOTHING happening yesterday but setup. I think more people went to see "From Justin To Kelly". I pick up my check and give it a once-over. Hours are right, so is the hourly wage. Less what I give up, there's still about 230 there. B e a uuuuuutiful. I walk a few blocks away to the bank that'll cash it (still no account yet since I'm off to the Vegas wedding in 13 DAYS!) and then head back the way I came towards Horton Hears A Who Plaza. I amble into Foot Locker and buy some cheap-ass white Pumas to shut up the bosses. I mean, working door or traffic, everyone looks at you from the chest up. The only people who'll notice are them, and probably only today. 32 bucks for the shoes. Doesn't matter. Why?

CAUSE I'M STILL RICH, BIATCH!

Ooh, and they had the Bullets Jordan jersey on sale for $45. I'm no John Cena, but it took me a good couple minutes to not buy it. I mean, I got to conserve for the wedding, the bachelor party, the bail money, and so on. You know how it is. I amble up upstairs to the big jersey place and look at a bunch of them. They've got a nice looking retroized Webber but as a Lakers fan I'd rather wear a backless dress. They got some cool Payton & Big Ben jerseys that've been retroized in old-school Milwaukee and Detroit setups. Anyway, I turn to leave, guess who's there?

Brother & dad. My dad's been taking his old HS friend from Arizona around, and we just happened to bump into each other. I told my dad I was thinking of hooking him up with the Alex English jersey. He says Joe Greene, so I guess I'm scouring eBay. He drops off my brother and walks away with the friend. I buy my brother a retro Pads cap for $10. I'm a good guy! I HAVE FOOTAGE--or at least a nonrefundable hat my brother enjoys.

After I pick up a double fudge brownie from Mrs. Fields it's back home, 90 minutes later than expected but ah well. Had a cousin over, finally finished the PPV match I was working on (not the best thing I've ever done but it's up there), and confirmed the rents will help out with the wedding monies even if my mom thinks my buddy's f'n nuts for getting married at 24.

Oh, by the way, the lot of the Angels on Conan Thursday was cash money. He should've had someone SING "Let's Get It On" if he had the band cue it up with the lights dimmed down and all.

Anyway, back to the salt mines. Got M-W off so I'll probably be back at it again around then. Keep watching the skies.

Sometimes I feel like something is gone here, something is wrong here, I don't belong here...