Cadillac Drive

I've finally gone and done it. I've started a proper blog. Kibbe, after much convincing has... uhh.. convinced me to start one. Really, though, I'm just doing it for the AdSense revenue which I am going to exploit for every red cent those folks are sure to generate my way. We're talking nickels here, folks. Possibly even dimes. I'm shooting for the moon, I know.

Now, like 112 million other people in the world I think that the world has to care about what I say. Let's be honest. You know I do. I'm that important. I'm full of snark. How that doesn't get a little, red, squiggly underlined thing, I don't know. I'll take it though. That's a fine prep school education for you guys. It's also not like I've never had a blog before.

Remember Livejournal? Yup. I had one. I guess I still do, techinically. MySpace blog? I used to update it on a daily basis and had quite the devoted following. However, since everyone and their mom started and subsequently stopped using MySpace (thank you very much for fucking it up, NewsCorp) and because I couldn't make make mad skrilla doing it, I moved on... To Facebook. Again, the lack of money... So I've decided that since I have the following three passions in my life:
1.) Cheeseburgers
2.) Ladies
3.) Money
I might as well try and roll them all into one. I'm not really sure how the cheeseburgers work into things just yet... but I'll worry about that later.

29 has been a good year for me thus far. I've been on a few dates which is a few more dates than I normally go on. I'm 5'7" so I'm taller than the average woman but shorter than the average man. This doesn't work against me but it doesn't help things. We'll call it a wash. I mean, look at Tom Cruise. Dude did Days of Thunder and he still gets to hang out with Katie Holmes. She looks like she could eat him for breakfast. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Most of my dates, however, end in a handshake or, even more disheartening, the ass out hug. You know what I'm talking about... The kind where the other party involved is all "Hey, I had a great night! We should do this again." All the while patting you on the back and thinking what they are going to wear to work the next day whether or not they need to change the kitty litter. Because if there is anything in the world that inspires romantic feelings of lust and desire, it's kitty litter.

Or a muffin pan. Langford, I'm looking at you.

But enough about that... Back to the point of my blog. Getting me some. Money. Seriously, folks, let's keep things clean and Christian. 'Cause, you know, I'm really good at both of those things.

I plan on keeping my dozens (literally, DOZENS) of readers up-to-date with my romantic misadventures. For example, my recent missed connection on craigslist is just a small look at what my dating life is like. People have doubted the validity of this story. I have witnesses. It happened. I swear it.

"What kind of response have I gotten so far?" I can hear you asking from all over this fair city. Well, just today, I got the email to your left from a 'woman' who turned out to be a spammer for an adult dating site. As good as dating adults does sound (and it does because, let's face it, I'm not getting any younger) I'm not really into chicks who do weird things with Coke bottles. Like drink out of them. I've got a pretty strict "no caffeine" policy. Sorry. It's just not my thing. Besides... Do you think that I achieved this fine physique by drinking 7 soda pops a day? Nope. I sure didn't.

What I am going to do to for you all is keep you up-to-date on my romantic entanglements or my severe lack thereof. A woman says "hi" to me? You're gonna hear about it. A lady smiles in my direction for singing Dashboard Confessional songs (another tattooed midget love wonder, by the way) when I'm in line at Qdoba? Yup. It'll be here. If only I had something like that happen to me today...

I was in Brentwood this afternoon, meeting with a potential client. I look pretty exhausted right now and rightfully so. It's been a pretty long day. I showed up to Insight Global looking for someone to whom I had been referred earlier this morning. Imagine my surprise when he wasn't immediately available but imagine my severe lack of surprise when I instantly fell in love with the receptionist.

Have I facebook stalked her already? I sure have. Stupid privacy settings.

You'd do the same. Let's be honest. She was hot and I wouldn't have to worry about wearing my 'make me tall' shoes around her because she was pocket-sized. It was win-win. Aside from the fact that it wasn't.

So, dear receptionist at Insight Global in Brentwood, you made my day... With your not being tallness coupled with your being shortness and your clear attraction to my beard. It's handsome, admit it.