Jizzob

So far, I've applied to a grocery store, a landscaping company, a pizza place, an upscale burger joint, an advertising factory for high school sports calenders, and most recently, a butchery. Oh yea, don't let me forget the sub delivery shop. Speaking of which, I need to call them. Like now.

*five minutes later* Well, the dude wasn't there, as usual. Oh well.

Tonight, I feast with my family. My mom finally closed on her condo today and she wants to take us out to celebrate. This will basically amount to her making snide comments about my joblessness and Sister's educational progress, in exchange for a free restaurant meal. It's not a bad trade, only, I wish we could go somewhere that has TV's at eye-level so I can at least appear as though I'm looking in my mother's direction while I watch a ballgame. Everyone has tv's up on the rafters, requiring me to crane my neck like I'm watching a plane go by. It's a little obvious, and my mother hates it. I also hate it when I fart or something and she goes "WES!" and acts embarrassed. It's gas. People get over it. Okay, maybe that's a little rude. I try to keep the air currents to a minimum, but it's hard when every place she likes to eat loads their food with cheese or fries everything in the same vat of peanut oil. Sheesh.

So once we're done eating, I almost always have ESS (expanding stomach syndrome), and the only remedy is several tablets of Rolaids and at least an hour of TV without my mom starting every sentence with, "What are you going to do about: ________?" Of course that never happens, so really, the act of eating in itself is the only good part.

Anywho, I'm gonna see what's up with DC tonight. I almost hung out last night but I decided since I didn't have any moola, to just stay in and not drink copious amounts of cranberry juice. I think it should be a little easier tonight since I've actually got some change in my jeans.

Yea, that's all, I think.