2001-10-01 - 10:07 p.m.
Wherein our spunky young hero equates a job hunt with 1001 Arabian Nights, and promises his virtual harem Secret Decoder Rings.
Gonna hafta be a quick one tonight, kiddies, or I'll be late for my midnight cross-country motorcycle ride with Lisa Loeb.
A guy can dream can't he?
And I will. Soon. When I go to bed.
Which I will do. Soon.
I had some point when I started this and now I've lost it completely.
Oh, wait, there it is.
Tonight I updated my resume and sent it off, with a wing and a prayer, across the great wasteland that is the internet, in the hopes that somewhere out there it would find the shining jewel of a new and better job, and deliver it back to my doorstep, like some obedient Ifreet from one of Sheherezhade's (sp?) tales.
<Butthead-Voice>Huh-huh. He said wasted.</Butthead-Voice>
On another note, today (or yesterday, or sometime this weekend) the j$ fan club gained its fourth official member (and if you're an unofficial member, shame on you. You don't want to miss out on your chance at getting your official j$ Secret Decoder Ring, do you?). All chicks.
Yeah, I'm all about the ladies. And the ladies? They all about me.
And I'm going to shut up now before I embarrass myself any more.
Wish me luck on the job front.