Friday, March 22, 2002

A couple of days ago I left my cheap canvas messenger bag at the place I get coffee. Luckily, somebody working there put it aside when they saw that it had been left behind. But get this! I was told that there was some woman who approached the staff and insisted that it was hers. When they told her that judging by the contents that it obviously belonged to some guy named Jeff, she smiled and replied confidently, "I'm Jeff." It's a crazy world. Bitch could have taken it for all I care. The only things I had inside were a bunch of old receipts and pictures of naked chicks drawn on cocktail napkins by me in moments of inspired clarity. In my version of events, I like to believe that the fake Jeff just wanted it to examine its contents to find out more about me because she's seen me around and totally digs my shit. Did I mention that she'd be as hot as balls? That's right. Stacked, tight round ass, the works. I'm the foxiest-girl-on-earth's object of desire. I am a stud.
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Thursday, March 21, 2002

I just got back from playing my band's second show. By the time we went on there were only probably about a dozen people in the room, but by the end of the second song, only four remained. On the bright side of things, they all stuck it out to the end. Real troopers, and for what it's worth, feedback was pretty positive. Comparisons were made to Pitchblend and the Minutemen. Odd, I don't own an album of either band. The nicest comment was from some sound engineer who recently moved here from Denver. He said he's seen around 150 bands since getting here and that we're his favorite "by far." Those words earned him a free CD, but I think he was more interested in getting a piece of what I'm packing downstairs, if you know what I'm talking about.
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Wednesday, March 20, 2002

The biggest jerk I ever knew was this kid named Henry. He was the kind of guy that would come up to you and hit you really hard in the shoulder because he thought it was cool or funny. It was neither. It was straight-up asshole. The sad thing is I used to be friends with this dickhead from when I was 8 until we hit middle school when he left for some blue-nose private school across town. To this day he's still "borrowing" my Ten Yard Fight for Nintendo and a fat stack of Adam's baseball cards. Man, you know he must have been a serious jerk if I still get angry when I think about him. His sister was a pain in the ass, too. Sometimes she'd hang about when Henry and me were horsing around. If I said something "sucked" she'd start harping on how she was going to tell her parents on me. Big deal. Speaking of his parents, his dad was the kind of dad that made you stay friends with the biggest jerk on earth. That's right, Henry's dad owned porno. If memory serves, he didn't stock anything dirtier than Playboy or Penthouse, but back then it didn't matter. Anything that gave me a hard was worth its weight in gold. So in conclusion, Henry sucks, his dad's all right, and I've still got a boner. The end. <!--12:01 AM-->

Tuesday, March 19, 2002

There are a lot of drunks up here in Portland. You see them stumbling out of bars at around noon, already three sheets to the wind. They'll approach you and ask you through a smiling mouth of missing teeth, "Spare some change so I can get drunk?" God, that line is getting old. Maybe their candor was funny at one point, but now it's tired and unavailing. Now if some guy came up to me and asked, "Suck you off if you buy me a beer?" I wouldn't take him up on it, mind you, but I'd sure laugh my ass off. <!--11:13 AM-->

Monday, March 18, 2002

So as I was telling a few friends today, some slut left her black thong panties in the washing machine downstairs. There isn't any super-hot box in the building so my imagination can only run so far. Well, whatever. I left them in the machine and threw my laundry in with them. Yeah, like I'm going to give up a perfectly good set of panties. So a half-hour later I go to move my clothes to a dryer, and what do you know. There's another pair of panties in there. Talk about dumb luck! It's like being struck by lightening twice!
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Eric has been either lazy or uninspired. It's been almost two weeks since he last posted to ericassociates.com. His audience is getting restless. So until he musters up the energy or lets go of his cock long enough to put up something new, enjoy my daily blog. <!--5:37 PM-->