IAMCOOLASBRUCELEEIAMCOOLASBRUCELEE

Hey, I got begged to add another day to my current contract attorney gig. Partner's Sister (she has a boyfriend, so calm down y'all) hinted that I'll be offered a permanent position in the next three months. My superego is trying to pull the legal version of "There's kids in Africa starving so eat your cremed eels" to make me all giddy about this (which happens to be "There's unemployed lawyers in Silicon Valley working in the Sunnyvale Kinkos so quit yer complainin'"), but in the end, cremed eels is cremed eels.

And yesterday, I held a small Superbowl shindig at Casa de Stark. No complaints whatsoever there. I was good to hang wid da homies in the Westwood yo. Though despite the fact that I had forgotten Makeup Chick (fine, I didn't, but I was trying to, why can't you just leave me alone, damn you! Damn you all to hell!!!), Makeup Chick became a topic of discussion. I would like to say I didn't bring her up, but I was all loopy on beer and onion dip so I can't say for sure I didn't bring her up. Anyway, the discussion became very 90210 after that. Dubois' girlfriend told me that Makeup Chick's boyfriend of two years was ugly, and kept pointing out Makeup Chick was into obscure movies and anime just like me. And the Big Jew said I was very pessimistic. Happy Pragmatic Couple said I wasn't being pessimistic if Makeup Chick had a boyfriend. My contribution to the discussion was alternating between "No, bad idea about me and Makeup Chick--every time I've had a chemical reaction to a chick, it ended in tears" to "Yeah, I have a lot in common with her." Fine, the discussion was very 90210 if 90210 had a very special episode about manic-depressive chorks. (And if Dubois' girlfriend ever reads this, that last tarot card, the 3 of Pentacles not only means pride and completion in work, but also a completion of a goal with the help of one's friends. Hear that--completion of a goal with the help of one's friends. Soooo, if you hang out with . . . fuggit, that's enough of Marty Stark in 12 year old schoolgirl with Hello Kitty stickers on her notebook and a not so secret E addiction mode).

So kids, the lesson is, ummm, the legal profession drives you crazy. Either that or I should've asked New Neighbor Way Down The Hall Chick if she had any more boxes she needed help moving. Yup, time to bring out the ol' Crotch Hammer of Frustration once again.