Today’s soundtrack: I am the holder of the three-pack bonanza
Today at 8:42pm: Sweating out the forms while Betty calls out the numbers.


Hey man. So yeah, we had our cleaning day at the Hapkido dojang. I’m going to stop italicizing “dojang” because I use the word enough that by now you know it means “school.” Unless you are reading this journal for the first time in which case you are screwed, man. (Screwed I can italicize.)

Mike has the keys to our apartment. Here’s the problem with that--I get home from work today, enter my bedroom, pull my tie off, and spot this poster taped above my bed:

If I was in the middle of drinking something, I would’ve spat it out. I could just picture Mike cackling as he carefully centered it on the wall. This fucking guy!

Earlier this year I was visiting an accountant to get my taxes straightened out. I’d left some important information in my computer at home, so I called Mike from the accountant’s office and asked him if he could go down the hall, let himself into my place and read me the numbers.

When I got back, my desktop background had been replaced with photos of a man holding a leash...attached to the nipples of a naked man wearing a leather mask.

I have to admit I had a good laugh at the poster though. Then I took it down and did what any sensible person would do: I taped it carefully to the inside of my roommate’s bedroom door. He usually leaves the door to his room open, with that side of the door against the wall, so I’m guessing he’s not gonna find this little gem for a few days or so. I hope it’s when he has people over.