One of the things I've found is that going out to lunch really does seem to make the day go by faster. At Weston I never really went to lunch. I would always work through it.

Now that I'm at GHR, I've gone out to lunch with my boss and others nearly every day. It really is exactly what is needed to break up the day.

I'm used to settling in in the morning, starting a tempo and maintaining it until the end of the day, pausing periodically. I never felt myself getting burnt out until I stopped doing that. Getting out of the office, just for an hour allows me to break that non-stopping pattern. That little bitty hour of not staring at a monitor and just seeing something else, anything else in the outside world, even if it is mostly traffic, keeps me level.

The only thing I fear is that I won't be able to maintain those staggering production rates like I used to. When I come back from lunch, I have to get settled back in, recharge the batteries, maybe have a smoke, start up from a cold stop, remember what the hell I was doing before lunch, and then set the tempo once again.

But before you know it, it's 5:30 and time to go home.

Labels: Work

Haha! We suck :)

So, my family had the most lackluster Christmas ever. We didn't even try this year. We were so NOT feeling the holidays. Vaughiddt. We were just so damn exhausted from everything else going on in our lives that we just didn't had the bandwidth to put all of that together this year. Between travel, jobs, babies, house-buying, and general malaise, we just decided we weren't doing anything. Much like we did Thanksgiving. We went over Cranny's for Thanksgiving. Let someone else do the cooking for a change.

We started with the crappiest little 2-foot tall Charlie Brown Christmas tree ever. Mom bought this tree on clearance from the K-Mart two days before Christmas. A leetle crooked aluminum tree in a bucket. :S I could just see her walking through the store now. All mad and shit. All the other customers feeling sorry for her. Haha! Oh, honey, is that all the Christmas tree you're going to put up? Hah!

I tell you what, though. Mom was bound and determined to make something out of that crap-ass tree. She bought some purple and silver miniature balls and some ribbon and shit. She decorated the shit out of that sad little pathetic tree.

So like most of my family's holidays, they revolve around food. We went food shopping (just for ourselves of course) and bought a bunch of shit. Why do we always do that? Make WAY more food than any of us could possibly eat. Even if it is only two of us. So we decided on ham for Christmas. Of course we realized that we forgot to buy brown sugar for the glaze. D'oh! So of course, I procrastinated and tried to go out Christmas Day to get it. "They'll be open in the morning! I can go then." Of course I go out at 1 o'clock. You know, just as ALL the grocery stores were closed or closing. The only thing that was open was the damn Eckerd and they didn't have no brown sugar. Tat's for damn sure. Oh well. The wages of sin is death.

Back to food and laziness. We were going to have waffles and sausage for breakfast. I decided to heat up a Hot Pocket at 10 o'clock because I knew what the deal was. We weren't eating shit until somebody felt like getting up and making the shit. Needless to say, breakfast was at 2. Well if breakfast was at 2, when the hell was lunch? Oh, about 6.

So around 6, out came the spread. Shyeesh. Meats & cheeses, crackers, deviled eggs, cookies. Good god. We filled up on that crap by the time the ham even came out, which was like 7:30. I, of course, made my famous 10-pound macaroni & cheese. After all that food, who could eat dinner? I couldn't even tell you the horrifying indigestion stories. Couple that with the 5 pounds of chocolate candies we devoured that day.

Much to my GREAT surprise I made out pretty good this year. My Mom got me an XBOX 360 and my Dad got me an upconverter DVD Player. Woot. I felt kinda bad because we had early on made the decision that no one was going to make a big deal out of Christmas this year. I got everyone DVDs. Kind of pales in comparison with what I got, huh? Who knew? I certainly didn't expect ANYBODY to spend that kind of money on me. I had actually planned to save up myself for the XBOX and the DVD Player came out of nowhere. I seriously expected to get some DVDs myself. Total surprise. Woot.

What's funny is that I got an XBOX 360, but I didn't have any games! Haha. Nerts. All I had were the 3 Burger King games. They were kind of my own personal convincer to get myself an XBOX 360. I tell you what, though. I played those games and they're actually funner than a muther fucker. :) Woot.

Do? We didn't do JACK SHIT for Christmas. We layed around like sloths and vegetated all day. Best Christmas ever!

Labels: Games

This post contains adult-related material.

So I decided to check out 7th Heaven in Conshohocken last night (and before you ask, no, not the gay-ass tv show).
Not bad. Not bad at all.

Let me tell you. There's nothing that will make you feel better than the company of a really good stripper or two. Nothing that will boost your ego or your self esteem like that.

I decided to go on a whim. I needed something to get my mind off Jenn (yes, I was still thinking about her). I didn't dress up much at all, but I still looked good. Threw on my new Flyers (Gagne) shirt, my leather jacket and my Kangol. Damn I'm sexy! :) I get more ass from that Kangol than a car seat.

First, if you don't know your way around Conshy, don't go. I hadn't been in a while and I was tired to begin with when I left. Stupid me, I missed the turn for Elm Street (Which I knew was right after you cross the bridge on Fayette street, but for some reason, my brain decided not to activate). I ended up in Ambler before I realized that I was nowhere near my turn. I had to flip a U-ie into Plymouth Meeting, come down Chemical Road and head back into Conshy. The bar is on Hector Street, which if you don't know is one-way (in the opposite direction) for most of it, so you have to go down Elm Street (which runs parallel and is also partially one-way) until it ends, then turn left and right to get to Hector Street at a point where it is 2-way. You go like a block or two and there it is on the left with a big red and green neon sign. Hard to miss.

Anyway, I got there, I parked. Cool. I got out of the truck and headed for the front door. I figure an establishment such as this isn't going to have a big grand entrance with velvet ropes and shit. It's in the middle of Conshy. I walked up to what seemed to be the front door (a nondescript door on the front side of the building, right?), but it was locked. This can't be. It's Saturday night and it's only 11 o'clock. I walked around the building to what appeared to be an equally nondescript kitchen door and voila! Door opened. Damn, could the entrance be any harder to find?

I walked into the bar and the first thing I saw was a tall old black dude asking me for an $8 cover. Not bad. I handed him a twenty and he handed me two ones, a five, and a very tight bundle of five singles that seemed ready for something. He had a stack of singles that were manicured (bundled into packs of five) like this. This was a good sign.

The place itself was kind of a dive. But no different than any other local dive you may go to (except for the strippers). It's not classy or upscale. If you're looking for that, then don't go here. Go to Delilah's or somewhere like that. I kept hearing awful things about it, but it's the same shit everywhere you go, really. One of the things I heard were that the bathrooms were atrocious. They weren't nearly that bad. I wouldn't drop a deuce there, but there was nothing sickening about them.

So I saddled up to the bar and staked out a spot right on the corner. It was a Saturday night, so it was crowded. There wasn't really an empty chair in sight. There was a chair directly to the left of me with no one sitting in it, but it looked like someone's seat. There were cigarettes, a beer, and some money still on the bar. I waited for a couple minutes just standing, but it didn't look like he was coming back anytime soon, so I stole his chair and got comfy. Of course two minutes later, here he comes. I immediately offered to return his seat, but he was insistent on me keeping it. Nice guy. Old white guy. About 50's, very drunk and very friendly. He babbled something incoherent about the Eagles and I just placated him until he stopped talking to me.

I ordered myself a brew and got comfortable. BTW, there were two bartenders and they were both looking pretty good. There was one that was really friendly. She was nice, but only mildly hot. There was the other one, who had a little bit of an attitude, but she was shit hot! God she was really nice. Nice little Italian body, dark hair cute as hell. She kind of had that stank attitude like she had been on her feet all day, been serving dumbasses, sleazes, and drunk pervs all day, and was just waiting for her shift to be over. I saw these two college-age drunken dumbasses immediately to my right bothering her, trying to get her to smile and I could see the attitude rising to the surface. She was doing her best to ignore them. The other, not quite as hot, bartender came over and was like, "Don't worry. She's like that to everyone." I don't know. That kind of made her even hotter to me.

OK, so I've got a seat at the bar, I've got a brew, and I'm readly to enjoy myself. Ladies and gentlemen, direct your eyes to center stage, please. The bar is this kind of a ring and the stage is in the center of the bar. They had about a dozen or more girls dancing in a rotation. Two girls dancing on stage at all times. Here's how the rotation works:

Two girls onstage at all times. Girl 1 and Girl 2. After one song is over, Girl 1 collects her things off the stage and comes off. Girl 2 moves into position 2 on the stage and a new dancer, Girl 3 gets on stage into position 1. The next song plays and when it's over Girl 2 collects her things and Girl 3 moves into position 2. A new dancer comes on into posiiton one. They keep going like this all night unless a dancer gets requested for a private dance, in which case the dancer behind her moves up in the rotation.

I know WAY too much about this.

Anyway, So I'm enjoying the show. Of the first two dancers on stage, one was a sista with a bangin' little body and the other was a tall white blonde with pretty big tits. When a dancer is through with her two songs and rotates offstage, she then circulates around the bar trying to get tips. Because of where I was situated at the bar, I was prime for getting hit up for tips. The dancers leave the bar and right at the exit is the old guy from whom I stole his chair. He's a bit of a dirty old coot, mooching kisses and grabbing the girls, but it's kind of harmless and I think the girls liked making him happy. One girl would grind on him, then grind on me while he watched. Kind of took me by surprise, but who's complaining. He seems like a real regular, like he's in there every day.

Well if he's first, guess who's next. Every girl would walk behind me and touch me in some way. You know rub my back or massage my shoulders and neck or something and just saddle up right next to me. You know I like that kind of touch, and they could probably sense that about me. All the girls were very friendly and personable. I mean I know it's their job, they're trying to get tips, but I didn't feel like I was being harassed just for a dollar, you know? They would ask me personal questions like, "What's your name?" and "How have your holidays been going?" "Doing a lot of shopping?" They would tell me something about themselves. They were very nice girls. None of them had attitudes or anything like they expext you to give them a dollar. It's those subtle things that I appreciate. Knowing I'm getting hustled but not feeling like I'm getting hustled.

I was very polite. I gave every girl a dollar when she came around to me and engaged them in a little bit of conversation, even if I didn't find their show all that great. There were a couple of girls who I just didn't find appealing. Not that there was anything wrong with them, they just didn't appeal to me. You know I don't like the skinny ones too much.

Although there was one dancer who was a complete pig. She must have been about 40. Big gut, little tits, white. Just ecch! But I gave her a dollar anyway. I tried not to engage her in too much conversation. The less I talk to you, the sooner you'll go away.

There was also this one other white girl, must have been about 19. She wasn't altogether terrible. She would have been kind of pretty in aother setting. Had kind of a girl next door quality, Sweet, you know?. Unfortunately she had the Suicide Girl/goth/Rob Zombie white-girl dreadlocks down to her butt that were dyed red. Such a turn-off in general, but especially for a stripper. When she came up to me looking for tips, I was already trying to ignore her. She was telling me this sob story about how this guy was trying finger her earlier that night. Oh poor little stripper girl. Boo hoo. Comes with the job. I could tell she was just trying to get the feel-sorry-for-me tips. I gave her a dollar just to get away from me and went back to watching the stage show.

Don't get me wrong. The other dozen or two girls were great. Just one or two that were bowsers. What do you expect from a club in Conshy?

There was also this one clumsy bitch that tried to do a pole trick and fucking fell and lost a shoe. There's nothing funnier than a clumsy stripper. I think I was the only one who saw her fall, though. She quickly recovered and tossed the other shoe away (Much like the ketchup at the Sixers game incident). She writhed on the floor like she meant to be down there. You and I both know the truth. :) That shit was funny.

So at first when dancers would come up to me for tips, I was really careful. I didn't know the club's policy about touching. The first couple dancers that hit me up, I placed a dollar in their bra strap being sure not to touch anything else. Since every dancer was showing me their cleavage to accept the tip, I tried to sneak in an extra touch. No one blinked. Evidently at this club it's ok. It's just part of getting the tip, allowing the guy a quick feel, not a grope, as he slips you a tip. Some girls would even turn around and lift up there skirts and let me put it in their G-String. One of them even let me put in one "for the kitty".

I gave everyone a dollar. If the dancer gave an above average or spectacular show on stage, or her body looked really good, I gave her a little more. There were some girls whose bodies were just bananas. Just didn't make no damn sense how good looking thse girls were. Way more than I expected for a club in Conshy.

Remember the girls I mentioned were first onstage when I walked in? The sista saddled up to me about 45 minutes later after she danced again. Oh I could tell she liked me. Damn this sista was bangin'! About 5'3". Sexy little chocolate drop. I don't usually go for darker-skinned sistas, I usually like the caramel/mocha colored sistas, but I couldn't resist this one. Beautiful smile. Cute as shit. No flies on her. Tight, sexy ass. And she knew how to make it clap. Breasts were a little smaller than I like (You all should know I like big tits, C/D cup by now), but shit who cares? They were nice and perky B-cups. She told me her name was Carly. She saw me when I walked in. She told me little cute personal things about herself. You could tell she liked what she did. She offered to private dance for me a little later. I said, "Shit, yeah"

So she disappeared for a while. There was another little honey dip that had a bangin' body. She was flat-chested, but otherwise beatiful. Mocha skin. Cute little thin lips. I found her fascinating because when she would dance, she would hardly ever take off her clothes. She also wore a lot of lingerie, as opposed to your typical stripper fare. Very sexy. She had a killer ass on her, though. When she got off stage and circulated over to me, she kicked up a nice little bit of conversation. Her name was Jade. When I talked to her, she was kind of ho-hum about being there. I found if I asked how a dancer's night was going, I tended to get that ho-hum answer. I guess being a dancer is kind of a grind (No pun intended). I stopped asking that question. I made her laugh a little and put a smile on her face. I asked her if I could get a private dance from her. She asked me to let her dance one more time and then we'll go. Cool. Bear in mind Carly hasn't come back yet.

So, I've got two private dances in the cue. Carly gets called back to the stage. It's her slot in the rotation. When she gets off, she circulates around the bar, but goes the other way, which would end with me. I think she got held up by a bunch of brothas on the other side of the bar. Jade gets back on stage and dances her two songs. (Her slot in the rotation is only a couple after Carly's) Jade comes off and approaches me. She says, I'm gonna go upstairs and change and I'll be right with you. I was intrigued at the promise of new sexy lingerie.

Errgh! More waiting. Shit I'm ready to go. Not that I'm terribly mad. How can you be in a place like that? :) So for the next 10 mins. I'm eyeballing the staircase leading to the dressing rooms, waiting for Jade to come down. Every dancer that came down got my hopes up. Let me tell you, when you're waiting for a private dance, 10 minutes seems like an eternity.

By the time Jade came down, Carly had grabbed me. Oh well. I didn't actually know how much the private dances were in this joint, but I was expecting $25. I was pleasantly surprised when they were only $20. Carly was great. She took me into the private dance lounge, sat me down in a chair and went to work. God she had a sexy body. I knew the rules, sit there and keep your hands to yourself. I couldn't help turning up my hands and trying to feel something when she would rub herself on me. Oh, god her skin was so soft. At least it wasn't overt. She would grind all over me and moan. Aww shit. She would tell me how she loved big men and that she loved to climb all over me. I was in heaven. She would do little things that drove me nuts like play with my ears or give me ever so subtle moans. They were almost cat-like purrs. She would tell me how I made her nipples so hard. God damn I was turned on. She had such a perfect little chocolate body. The curves in her back and her perfect little belly button, mmm. I wanted to lick her all over, but I behaved myself.

Then there were the extras she would do to me. She would basically sit on my face and pop her ass. She would turn around and pound her ass into my crotch. This was the best dry hump ever. She would basically give me an over-the-pants hand-job as she danced for me. She had no problems with grabbing my dick for just a lapdance.

Let me explain something right now. No stripper will EVER do this to you. Don't ever expect this type of thing from any strip bar. A private dance will get you some nice grinding, maybe, but no stripper will do anything more. This girl is one of the special ones that really enjoys what she does. I told you, Carly liked me a little more than just trying to get tips. Granted I'm dumb, but I ain't that dumb. Trust me on this.

During my private dance with Carly, another guy was getting one in a chair relatively close to me. His dancer was asking him personal questions like, "So what do you do?" I heard him answer, "I'm a school teacher. I teach high school." I though to myself...wouldn't it be some shit if someone you recognized caught your ass in here? I mean there's nothing wrong with getting a lapdance, but if your students found out, you'd never hear the end of it. I just had to chuckle.

After one dance, she asked me, "You want another one, baby?" to which I promptly replied, "Hell mutha-fuckin' yes!"

During my second dance with Carly, I saw Jade walk into the lounge with some other brotha. She sat him down right next to me. I was thinking to myself, "Don't worry. I'll get at you later. Right now, you can kind of audition for me. Free preview." As hard (difficult) as it was to take my eyes off Carly, I would glance over at Jade dancing with this brotha, workin' that ass!. I was having a hell of a time.

After a couple of dances with Carly. I went back to the bar and let Carly get back in the rotation. I told her don't worry. I was fittin' to run her, Jade, and this other dancer with an incredible ass named Fantasy all night. So I went back to my couple of drinks and watched the show. Jade finished with her dude and rolled back up on me. She playfully said, "You cheated on me.". I told her, "You left me high and dry." I couldn't wait forever, but I tried to make it up to her. I told her after she danced onstage next, I would be all hers.

I really did mean to.

When Carly was on stage she kept staring at me longingly. I know she was just throwing her attention my way to try and get me to get more dances, but shit, I didn't mind. When you think about it, you're trying to get tips from these guys at the bar when you're done on stage, but a private dance is guaranteed money for considerably less time and effort. When Carly got off stage this time, she took me into the lounge for more private dances. She was so good, especially with the extras that I was pretty convinced that no one else would do, how could I resist?

Carly would tell me more things like how much she loved to fuck and cum. She wanted me to tell her my fantasies because it turned her on. I knew it was bullshit, but I went along with it. I told her I wanted to eat her pussy like a peach and just suck on it for hours. She told me it tasted like vanilla. Good God, Magnum! She told me how one wold think that when she leaves the club, she could just go right out and fuck, but she just doesn't get the opportuninty. She ends up turning herself on and having to go home and finish herself off. I told her, "Shyiiiiiiiiiit. I'd be the first mutha fucker in line to help you with that."

Unfortunately, I ended up snubbing Jade again. I had Carly dancing for me until the place closed. Baby, I'm sorry. I will make it up to you I promise. Just let me know when you're working again. I will be back.

Overall I had a great fucking time. That was just what I needed. I was quietly going insane and I needed some kind of release (not just sexual).

Labels: Bars, Hot Bitches, Night life, Strip clubs

OK, so I just freaked my mother out with my uncanny ability to mimic a specific alien's lines in Star Wars: Return of the Jedi.

I told you I was a geek.

The alien's name is Nien Nunb, from the planet Sullust. He's the mouse-lookin' dude next to Lando Calrissian on the Millenium Falcon in the final fight. How do I know this? I told you. I'm a geek.

I can mimic his lines perfectly and on queue.

I shouldn't admit this, ever, but I actually sat down when I was 13 with a tape of Jedi, and memorized the seemingly gibberish uttered by the alien. It was mostly an attempt to be funny and freak out this other kid, fellow geek, Eric Politowski.

Labels: Geekdom, Star Wars

Well today was my first day of work. I'm still getting used to leaving the house earlier. I have to be there at 8:30 AM. Unlike Weston, where they didn't really care when I showed up, I would leave the house at 10 after 9.

I tried going my special route through Tredyffrin. Of course I got screwed up and missed my turn onto Diamond Rock Road. I eventually righted myself and wound up on Country Club Lane and went the rest of the way like I ordinarily would. I came to the conclusion that it's not worth the effort doing all that to gain effectively one minute travel time. I'm just going to go the ordinary way I would go. I avoid enough traffic going that route without having to drive all over the river and through the woods.

I got myself oriented on the job and they finally got a PC for me (It wasn't there for me when I showed up). They gave me a little busywork while I learned the systems. I learned more today about the lending industry today than I thought I would ever want to know. It's a lot of information to absorb.

One thing that was great was there weren't 40 Bob's working in the department. People would ask me, "Do you go by Robert or Bob or Rob or what?" I told them I didn't care. I was glad I didn't have to. I went by Robert/Rob at Weston because there was already a Bob Hackett and a Bob Sullivan. Why confuse things? There weren't 40 Bob's, but there were sure a lot of Marcs. In fact, they had 3 of them all sitting in a row.

They gave me a nice little cube on the third floor by a window. That was nice. They said, "Don't get comfortable. The entire department's moving to the first floor in a week?" Oh. :|

I had lunch with my boss and a few others. They all went out to Ruby's in KofP. They didn't treat me, which sucked, but you know whatever. It was nice. I met some interesting characters. I like my boss here, Nate. He's a nice guy.

It's a real multi-cultural blend here at GHR. Just today I've seen several Chinese folks, Russians (surprisingly), Indian, Japanese, and some others in addition to Americans.

It's nice knowing that everyone gets out of work here around 5:30, rather than like the IS department at Weston, nobody ends up leaving until at least 6:30. It's the price you pay for being allowed to come in way late. The con is that I have to force myself to get moving in the morning about an hour earlier. Weak. Oh well. Yin and Yang.

Labels: Work

Labels: Geekdom, Hot Bitches, Star Wars