Dave Chappelle can kiss my (white) black ass.

Oy.

I should have learned from DanjerusKurves' recent entry about having a few too many drinks and letting loose on the internet.

But, really... Do I ever learn anything? Of course not. If I did, what the fuck would I write about here?

After not hearing from Wolf for a few days, I got a few shitty messages about how crazy work was, and that it was normal for him to work 14-16 hour days, five to seven days a week, so a relationship would be really hard right now, but that he still wanted to see me.

Uh... who the hell said relationship??

So, since I am not going to play the game on his terms only, I am out. I can't have him calling all the shots. And, because I must always have the last word (usually to my detriment), I had some wine, and left him a few paragraphs in the form of an offline message letting him know how I felt about him and his work schedule.

After that, I called Jason's cellphone, and thought it would be funny to do the Pat O'Brien voicemails. I just kept saying "You are so fucking hot" and "Let's get crazy. Let's get some coke. Hire some hookers. You are so fucking hot." Ok, so maybe it's funnier when you're drunk. Whatever. Jason didn't think it was so funny, because he was on a date when I called, and his date could hear the whole conversation.

I was scolded on Sunday morning.

No one made him answer his phone in the middle of a date.

Sheesh.

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So, when you have major abdominal surgery, and your insides get moved around, and cut, and re-directed, things change. And when 3/4 of your intestines are bypassed, the length of time that you can... hold things - decreases drastically.

I have learned that when that "special feeling" strikes, there's not time to play games. You must go. Now.

Today, my boss, Mr. Big Shot was talking to me (which he never ever does, so go fucking figure this is the one time he wants to chat me up). About mid-conversation, it hit me. I stood there, listening, wishing he would finish blathering on and on and on about this protein drink he wanted me to try (he is fitness OBSESSED and he is always telling me about this crap since he knows protein is the biggest thing in my diet now). So I was smiling, and nodding, and agreeing profusely, as a good lowly employee does when being talked to buy the guy who owns her ass. I soon realized that it was go time. Literally.

I tried to wrap it up, and I just kept saying, "Oh, ok then, I'll be sure to try that powder next time I'm out shopping," but the fucker wouldn't stop talking. Things were rumbling, and I could feel knots in my stomach. It was bad. Finally, thankfully, Chris walked up behind him, and he picked up on something not being right, and took Mr. Big Shot away to talk about whatever shit his junkie son fucked up this week.

Jesus.

Seriously. It's like five minutes, and then it turns into me running like an idiot with my legs crossed.

Later, I told Chris why I was freaking out, and he laughed hysterically. Asshole.

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Did anyone else that reads dooki(and if you're not, then why the fuck aren't you? She rules) download the songs from her last entry and love them? Holy hell, did I fall in love with some bossa nova cover songs. I immediately went to itunes and got the whole record, and I think I listened to it about ten times at work today.

It's awesome.

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I heard on Howard Stern today (yeah, I listen to Howard. Shutup), and they were talking about how Oprah had lunch with Brad Pitt so she could talk to him out of divorcing Jennifer "I'm the biggest victim in America" Aniston. Who the fuck does Oprah think she is? And why would Brad leave Angelina Jolie, whose sex elicits sounds that cause strangers to knock on their hotel door to make sure animal sacrifices aren't going on?

Somehow I get the impression that Jen is too worried about how her boobs look during sex, and if 69 makes her look fat.

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So. Dave Chappelle's not crazy. And not on drugs. He's just stressed out. It's kind of hard for me to sympathize with someone who just got paid $50 million for two fucking seasons of Chappelle's Show. That's like, 24 episodes in total.

God bless those poor over-worked and under-paid celebrities.