AFTER READING
SOME OF MY JOURNAL
ENTRIES, IT'S CLEAR
THAT I NEED TO STOP
WATCHING PORN.
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November 22, 2006
I thought today was it. I mean, how often do you get a female gas-station attendant? Crestfallen when she didn't ask me to "fill her up" in the back room of the convenience mart.
P.S. Gas prices are still so high! Stupid Hummer. Last time I buy a vehicle because of its name.
December 23, 2006
Picked up large holiday order at butcher. Owner Sal was in particularly high spirits. Guess everyone is this time of year. Hopes rose when Sal asked if I wanted to accompany Terry into the walk-in fridge to handpick my tenderloin. Immediately pictured Terry to be a charcuterie vixen, wearing only a white apron smeared with animal guts. Hopes dashed when Terry appeared. (Terry is a man, and not a very personable one. He did, however, have lots of animal guts on him.)
December 31, 2006
New Year's Eve is lame. Especially when some tease tells you she wants to see the ball drop but is referring to a stupid TV show.
January 5, 2007
Learned that when attractive bank teller asks you if you want to make a deposit, she means it literally—as in money. Balance in checking account embarrassingly low. Saw job posting for position at supermarket. Maybe I'll apply.
January 24, 2007
Didn't see this one coming. Bastards in my online GED course fooled me. Thought I was IMing with teacher. "Teacher" even sent picture. She looked suspiciously like Judith Light, but I wouldn't let doubt seep in—long-awaited teacher-student fantasy was about to come true. Typing got steamy. No, raunchy. Unfortunately it was a hoax and entire exchange was posted publicly. Classmates et al. now know about my Meyer lemon/glue gun/cephalopod fantasy.
February 16, 2007
Interviewed for that stockperson job at local supermarket. Went well until she (manager) asked if I had any questions. Thought I was supposed to lift leg up on table and reply, "I'm a very hard worker. Do you want to see my skills in action?" As usual, I stupidly misread social cues. Didn't get job. At least, not getting hopes up.
February 20, 2007
Hemorrhoid has reached unbearable point. Finally broke down and went to doctor. Nurse weighed me. (I gained again.) Then led me to the examination room and shut the door. For some reason, she did not say, "Let's see if I can help with your erectile dysfunction." So I could not reply, "I'm sorry, you must have the wrong chart." And she therefore didn't have the opportunity to toss the chart aside, remove her glasses, let down her hair, and say, "Well, let's not worry about the chart," before locking the door and telling me to slide out of my clothes.
Needless to say, I'm very disappointed. Doctor did explain that hemorrhoid is too small to rubber-band and warned that cutting it out risks leakage for life. He prescribed Proctosol. It works like a charm.
March 4, 2007
Terry from butcher shop called! Turns out he's just shy. Doing dinner this week, though he was adamant about no steakhouses.
March 12, 2007
Cops showed up at my house after nosy neighbors complained about the large piles of citrus-smelling, glued-together squid all over my front lawn. "Where are the female officers? I want to be frisked by female officers!" I yelled as I was hauled away for no reason.
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OTHER McSWEENEY'S FEATURES:
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After Reading Some of My Journal Entries, It's Clear That I Need to Stop Watching Porn By Frank Ferri
Regarding Pete Seeger's Requests for a Hammer and His Descriptions of What He Would Do If He Had One By John Moe
Fantasy Baseball Preview 2007: Atom City Smashers By Chris White
Gregor Samsa, Coach By Will Layman
The Game That Announced We Were Not to Be Messed With By Graham Murphy
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