And now, the SNL update
First, a few more words about Gerald Wilson. It was a terrific show. He totally owned the stage, the band was completely professional, and he spoke at length about music theory, composing music, and the L.A. Jazz scene. And speaking of the L.A. Jazz scene, fucking Howard Rumsey was in the audience a couple of rows behind me. Howard Rumsey is one of my heroes. Howard Rumsey used to run The Lighthouse and Concerts By The Sea. Concerts By The Sea was an underground intimate club out at the beach that you had to climb down a super narrow staircase to get into. It was an ideal club. Howard lost his financial backing and lost the club to a Comedy promoter. And that was the end of that.
But the Gerald Wilson concert was a total gas, and for that night, I was fucking lucky that I am who I am and that I know the people that I know.
It is Spring Break, and we are supposed to be at my favorite resort in Mexico right now.
Unfortunately, Dr. Speed Jr. told me that he wanted to go to the football sportscamp over Spring Break, the Princess Of Speed had some more award stuff to finish up, (something to do with the Congressman), and she is supposed to go to this competition in Irvine tomorrow. So, I cancelled my reservations, (I had the south Penthouse!), and swallowed my plans. Good thing, too.
I have a fucking cold.
I am pissed.
So, I spent a few days in bed. Yesterday, I gathered myself up and drove down to L.A. and took the Jet-Set Queen out to lunch. We went out to Malibu. Back to Gladstones. Hadn't been out there since the bomb scare. We had a nice talk, I had my usual lobster and steak, Mom had a seafood Cobb salad, and the seagulls and the waves played their roles. I had a couple of lemon drop martinis. It was a good day.
Now, the workdrama page.
A few weeks ago, I had a situation at work that I did not handle with my usual diplomatic skills. Because of the BigBrotheredness of my work environment, I have to be politically correct. A situation arose. I said to myself, "I don't give a shit." I spoke my mind in front of witnesses. I got in trouble. While everyone agreed that I was right, apparently I'm not supposed to call my co-worker "a little bitch."
It's just like the time that I lost it and called one of my co-workers incompetent. Even though it's true, you just aren't supposed to say it.
Fucking Bah.
Fucking Lurch asked me to supervise again. He comes into my office and says, "Are you ready to supervise again." I'm like, "What do you want from me?" So he starts with the old bullshit about how I was a good supervisor, and he needs me out there on the front lines, but we need to talk, and blah fucking blah. So I'm getting pissed, because the guy is obviously swallowing his pride, but I've gotten real comfortable pushing papers again. And I've been keeping a low profile lately, which I hear is pising some people off. They want the old arrogant Dr. Speed back. I don't give a shit. I'm having a good time. I'm still an arrogant bastard, but fuck the drama.
As for Lurch, I don't fucking trust the guy. Period.
So I sent him this real fucked up e-mail saying that I wouldn't be supervising again, because his chaos-management style terrifies me.
And now, the part about where I am so fucked in the head, that it ain't even funny.
The week that I was stressed, I was having a shitty day at work, and so was the Lesbian Queen. I walked by her work space, and I could look at her face and see that she was highly pissed about something. That night, I had to go to a seminar and I had a couple of hours after I got off work to kill before I had to go to the seminar. So I asked the Lesbian Queen if she wanted to go out for drinks after work and talk. She said yes before I finished asking the question. So we went to the local watering hole and sat at the bar and ordered drinks and talked. As I've mentioned before, she has a killer figure and monstrous tits. I mean, like E-class. She has flashing eyes and perfect DSLs. I would like to fuck her, and she has mentioned that she wants to stop being a lesbian, but she's looking for the right guy. And then she says shit about how I'm a nice guy, and I catch her looking at my dick every now and then.
It's pretty much public knowledge at my job that I have a big dick, because it's obvious that the hot chicks don't hang around me because of my looks.
So me and the Lesbian Queen are sitting there drinking and talking, and I can see that's she's getting horny. And she wants to know why I like her, so I tell her that she's smart and sophisticated and she keeps to herself and I like the way that she carries herself and the way that she dresses; you know, the usual shit that ladies like to hear. So, I'm watching the clock, because I don't want to miss my seminar, but she giving me all the signals for conquest. So, I'm fighting with myself and my primal urges, and it's the old Dr. Speed fight about business versus pleasure, and I'm feeling a tiny buzz from my second drink, and goddamn, she's leaning toward me at just the right way, and her eyes are flashing and her lips look so inviting, that I want to get a room right now, and when she takes a breath, her bosom heaves right at me.
But this fucking seminar is important to me.
So then she starts telling me about how I'm so nice and that's when she loses me.
So I tell her that I appreciate her company and I hope that the after work drink helped her to calm down and relieve some of her stress, but I got to run down the freeway.
And she's got THE LOOK on her face. She wanted to get boned. Badly. But I'm already out the door walking to my car.
The next day, she tells me that she had a great time, and she wants to go out again. I'm all like, "Yeah. Sure. Babe."
Then, a couple of days after that, she tells me that we need to talk.
So I say O.K.
She tells me that whenever I want her, she will be mine. Whenever. She'll do whatever I want. Wherever I want. However I want. I wish I was making this shit up. I just smiled the Dr. Speed smile and told her okay.
I just may take a shot at her, just to bring her back from the Darkside.
My problem is that I don't want her to fall in love with me or develop any feelings for me. And I know that once she has an orgasm, she'll be all over me. I have a sweet thing going with Betty Page right now, and I don't want to fuck that up, because Betty is the best fuck buddy, ever. But, she's not going to play that shit about me fucking a lesbian.
Decisions, decisions.
But the Gerald Wilson concert was a total gas, and for that night, I was fucking lucky that I am who I am and that I know the people that I know.
It is Spring Break, and we are supposed to be at my favorite resort in Mexico right now.
Unfortunately, Dr. Speed Jr. told me that he wanted to go to the football sportscamp over Spring Break, the Princess Of Speed had some more award stuff to finish up, (something to do with the Congressman), and she is supposed to go to this competition in Irvine tomorrow. So, I cancelled my reservations, (I had the south Penthouse!), and swallowed my plans. Good thing, too.
I have a fucking cold.
I am pissed.
So, I spent a few days in bed. Yesterday, I gathered myself up and drove down to L.A. and took the Jet-Set Queen out to lunch. We went out to Malibu. Back to Gladstones. Hadn't been out there since the bomb scare. We had a nice talk, I had my usual lobster and steak, Mom had a seafood Cobb salad, and the seagulls and the waves played their roles. I had a couple of lemon drop martinis. It was a good day.
Now, the workdrama page.
A few weeks ago, I had a situation at work that I did not handle with my usual diplomatic skills. Because of the BigBrotheredness of my work environment, I have to be politically correct. A situation arose. I said to myself, "I don't give a shit." I spoke my mind in front of witnesses. I got in trouble. While everyone agreed that I was right, apparently I'm not supposed to call my co-worker "a little bitch."
It's just like the time that I lost it and called one of my co-workers incompetent. Even though it's true, you just aren't supposed to say it.
Fucking Bah.
Fucking Lurch asked me to supervise again. He comes into my office and says, "Are you ready to supervise again." I'm like, "What do you want from me?" So he starts with the old bullshit about how I was a good supervisor, and he needs me out there on the front lines, but we need to talk, and blah fucking blah. So I'm getting pissed, because the guy is obviously swallowing his pride, but I've gotten real comfortable pushing papers again. And I've been keeping a low profile lately, which I hear is pising some people off. They want the old arrogant Dr. Speed back. I don't give a shit. I'm having a good time. I'm still an arrogant bastard, but fuck the drama.
As for Lurch, I don't fucking trust the guy. Period.
So I sent him this real fucked up e-mail saying that I wouldn't be supervising again, because his chaos-management style terrifies me.
And now, the part about where I am so fucked in the head, that it ain't even funny.
The week that I was stressed, I was having a shitty day at work, and so was the Lesbian Queen. I walked by her work space, and I could look at her face and see that she was highly pissed about something. That night, I had to go to a seminar and I had a couple of hours after I got off work to kill before I had to go to the seminar. So I asked the Lesbian Queen if she wanted to go out for drinks after work and talk. She said yes before I finished asking the question. So we went to the local watering hole and sat at the bar and ordered drinks and talked. As I've mentioned before, she has a killer figure and monstrous tits. I mean, like E-class. She has flashing eyes and perfect DSLs. I would like to fuck her, and she has mentioned that she wants to stop being a lesbian, but she's looking for the right guy. And then she says shit about how I'm a nice guy, and I catch her looking at my dick every now and then.
It's pretty much public knowledge at my job that I have a big dick, because it's obvious that the hot chicks don't hang around me because of my looks.
So me and the Lesbian Queen are sitting there drinking and talking, and I can see that's she's getting horny. And she wants to know why I like her, so I tell her that she's smart and sophisticated and she keeps to herself and I like the way that she carries herself and the way that she dresses; you know, the usual shit that ladies like to hear. So, I'm watching the clock, because I don't want to miss my seminar, but she giving me all the signals for conquest. So, I'm fighting with myself and my primal urges, and it's the old Dr. Speed fight about business versus pleasure, and I'm feeling a tiny buzz from my second drink, and goddamn, she's leaning toward me at just the right way, and her eyes are flashing and her lips look so inviting, that I want to get a room right now, and when she takes a breath, her bosom heaves right at me.
But this fucking seminar is important to me.
So then she starts telling me about how I'm so nice and that's when she loses me.
So I tell her that I appreciate her company and I hope that the after work drink helped her to calm down and relieve some of her stress, but I got to run down the freeway.
And she's got THE LOOK on her face. She wanted to get boned. Badly. But I'm already out the door walking to my car.
The next day, she tells me that she had a great time, and she wants to go out again. I'm all like, "Yeah. Sure. Babe."
Then, a couple of days after that, she tells me that we need to talk.
So I say O.K.
She tells me that whenever I want her, she will be mine. Whenever. She'll do whatever I want. Wherever I want. However I want. I wish I was making this shit up. I just smiled the Dr. Speed smile and told her okay.
I just may take a shot at her, just to bring her back from the Darkside.
My problem is that I don't want her to fall in love with me or develop any feelings for me. And I know that once she has an orgasm, she'll be all over me. I have a sweet thing going with Betty Page right now, and I don't want to fuck that up, because Betty is the best fuck buddy, ever. But, she's not going to play that shit about me fucking a lesbian.
Decisions, decisions.