San Francisco

Cake Woman is in San Francisco starting fights and raising a ruckus, so I have the apartment to myself. I’ve been running around in the nude with all the lights in the house on because for a brief few days, I can. Okay, before Cake Woman kicks my ass I should come clean — earlier I had all the lights on in the kitchen while I was doing the dishes. Really the only thing that I did that she will get upset about is that I drank one of the Viking beers in the fridge. It’s dark and chocolatey. Mmm mmm good. Actually, I bought that beer for her in a fit on generosity the other day. I don’t know what I was thinking. I must like her or something.

Somehow I picked exactly the amount of computer junk that would fit into my car. Three computers, three monitors, two boxes of assorted cables and power supplies, a set of jankety shelves, my wee television, the TiVo (to be hooked up to nothing), the laser printer, and the scanner. Shit is everywhere in the apartment. One of the boxes has so many cables hanging out of it that it looks like I have been slaughtering cephalopods. I haven’t, but Cake Woman is likely to slaughter me and make body lotion out of my testes. I hope that she likes balls, ‘cause that’s what she’s gonna get on her motherfucking face is my fucking balls.

I digress. It’s starting to get a little late and I only just now got a skeleton crew of computers running. jpmullan.com is up and my workstation is running, but only on one monitor. The other monitor is sitting forlornly on the floor, awaiting its noble call to sing drunkenly and — hmm. Drunkenly might be a key word here. I’m not saying that I’m drunk right now, but Maibock is delicious.

At least I will have time to do the dishes and clean up the party remnants.

Not that I had a party.

Really.

You would have been invited if I had. I mean it. I like you, man, you’re cool, and it’s a shame that we don’t hang out. Seriously, when I get all moved in, I will totally call you. It’s just been so crazy and shit. I mean, you know how it goes, when you’ve got school and work and shit.

Dude.

Really.

Okay, dude, I seriously gotta go crash.

Word.

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