a twenty sacrilegious

I hate God. I piss on him. Apparently he fucked Mary Magdaline. Good for him, the hookers are always the best fuck.

I’d kill for some murder right now. The fat, juicy kind with babies and money. You see, everything is a Quinton Tarintino movie if you think about it. And I do, but I like Danny Boyle like a million times better. And his name is easier to spell.

This weekend will be my last weekend at the butterfly kiosk at the DBG. You see, the butterfly pavilion closes down for the summer. Apparently many butterflies can’t survive this Phoenix heat so my job is no more. Nomojob. Sooooo for the last whatever amount of days I have been applying at other places and submitting resumes and all that fucking bullshit that goes along with getting a job. I applied for the petco grooming training center, I went to open interviews and took a corporate survey with questions like

You think its okay to steal from work: true/false
You think its okay to to do drugs at work: true/false
There are sixty days in a month: true/false
You are never angry: true/false

It was ridiculous. There were 150 questions and it took me like forty minutes, the last half was alllll math and you know how I feel about math. Apparently I passed though and the very next day I got a call from a grooming place in Happy Valley. I drove the twenty minute drive and talked to a girl named Jess who is only a year older than me and the grooming manager. The first question she asked was if I smoked cigarettes. I said no. She said, “oh, well you should start cause you’ll get more breaks.” And then laughed. And I laughed too because it seemed like this place wasn’t so uptight. She said I was her first interview she has ever done. I said she was doing well. She had acne and oily hair and sometimes couldn’t think of the right words to say. I was not intimidated by her. The position was for bather/brusher, 30 days of that and then they send you to grooming school for four months. I told her a little about myself and then she called someone, I’m assuming the woman who interviewed me the first time, and said “yes, yes she is nice isn’t she? Yes, so then I can hire her? Alright.” And I laughed a little. And she hung up and said, “okay, you’re hired.” I went and met the general manager who spoke to me jokingly in a southern accent and said “you know you’re going to get wet.” I filled out paper work and was pleeeeeeased that I was hired on the spot.

I am, for the first time probably ever, pretty fucking stoked about this new job. The chick seemed mildly cool. The only people I will be working with are her and the other groomer, a lady named Francis who I have not yet met. And then me. And that’s their employee roster. The job is full time, 10-6, bathing puppies all day. I get to learn to do simple clips, cut their nails, clean their ears and bath them. The pay rate is horribly low, six dollars an hour, but also 40% commission on each dog you do.

I’m excited to have a job where I will actually be contributing something useful. What I mean is, it will matter if I miss work because the job I do actually contributes to their business.

She told me I have to wear water proof pants. Haaaaaaaa. Oh man. You know, the ones that swish when you walk. 100% nylon. I can definitely see the sexiness involved.
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I start tomorrow. It was nice to go to a job interview and come home with a schedule. Downside, Happy Valley is quite a drive from my apartment. Twenty-thirty minutes and gas is like a million dollars. Happy Valley, fucking stupid name.

In unrelated news, last night I had great sex. It was, seriously, great sex. Like, when-we-first-got-together sex. In June the girlfriend and I will have been together for three years. Threeeeee years. Holy shit. Some people get married. It’s illegal for us. We say if we are still together at 24 we are going to get married. Have a ceremony, which really will just be a giant party with the best food and the best liquor and the best music. And everyone will look hot and we will get wasted together and dance to el scorcho.

This entry was too self involved. But tee oh dee things are going well for me at the moment. Skool is almost over. New job. Good sex. My parents are visiting this month to bring down the girlfriend’s new car. A 2000 Camry. I don’t quite now how they’ll feel about the gay lifestyle, but I’m more than certain they will be as accepting as possible and mom will drink a bunch of martinis and my dad will put a new power steering pump in my Honda.

Behold! Good news and good sex! Now, get naked and roll over. You know the drill.