I Wanna Getcha High, I Wanna Get Next To You

Caution-extended bad metaphor alert!

Sometimes, you know it's your day. There's no logic to it. You wake up and you just know in your bones that this is your friggin' day. This the type of day you want to be in Vegas with lots of dough to blow, and hey, because it's your day, there you are. So you get up, turn on the radio and your favorite song is playing. You turn on the shower and the water is just right, warm enough to make you go "ahhhhh" but not hot enough to make you go "AAAAAHHHH". After you shower, you put on your favorite vintage black bowler's shirt, snazzy khakis and your black Ecco shoes. There's no need to wait for the hotel elevator because the elevator doors open up right as you walk into the halls. There's no line to the breakfast buffet. A fresh pot of coffee just got placed as you reach the beverage station. As I said, you know it's your day. All the food is being replaced as you hit the food and the omelet bar just got free. So you have this great breakfast, and figure you should go to the floor. You don't even think about going to the ATM because, as you're leaving the buffet, you step on a chip, a $1000 chip to be exact. See, this is your fuckin' day. And there's this brunette honey with legs that go all the way down to the ground who's lookin' over at you. So you go over and introduce yourself to this pretty Betty and ask her to go for a walk with ya. And she says sure. Usually, you parce out your bets slowly so you have some play money left over at the end of the day. But hey, you have this blue-eyed Betty next to ya, you found that $1000 chip, you didn't have to wait for an elevator or breakfast, and your morning started out with your favorite song on the radio. So what the fuck, you go over and place the $1000 chip at the roulette table on Black 13. Hell, you know it's your day, so you place that $3000 pay check that's been burning a hole in your wallet as well. And Blue-Eyed Betty is impressed. Everyone else at the table is looking at you like you're some stupid mook from Dogshit, Alabama but you know better. As that roulette wheel starts spinning and that ball starts rolling, you know where it's going to land. Red-black-red-black-red-green, the wheel goes round and round. And the ball starts hopping in and out of the holes, and as the wheel slows down, the ball pops into Black 13 like you knew it would. And as the wheel slows to a stop, some big fuckin' drunk asshole who smells like cigars and cheesesteak hoagies bumps into the table and that ball pops out. Not only does it pop out, it pops out into the throat of some chunky ol New Jersey hausfrau in purple sweatpants and "Secausus Is For Lovers" t-shirt. And in all the commotion, as the Emergency Response Crew rushes toward Phyllis Schmuchler from Jersey City looking like some purple beached whale thrashing on the floor, one of the crew bumps into that frat boy at the table next to ya, the one with the Abercrombie whitebread looks that ends up with the hottest freshman on the first keg of the school year, and that seven he threw turns into a six. He's the one who gets all the money. And that Blue-Eyed Betty loses interest in you with a mad quickness. So much for this being your day.

OK, so Makeup Chick of course has a boyfriend and was madly flirting with the lead (son of a famous actor, won't tell you which one). Though I did figure out why the hell I had such a chemical reaction for her. See, I did manage to talk to her today at the shoot. Other than having incredible eyes (and a rather nice ass), she's a liberal, a science fiction fan and a big music fan. She has Radiohead stickers on her makeup kits. Something in me must've recognized this. Perhaps these type of chicks give off the same kind of vibe. And not helping at all today, she kept touching my knee as we talked about politics. Oh well, here's me looking like a jackass once again in blogger. Yeah, time to take the hammer to my crotch once more.