Today was an OK day;  I got nearly all my gear over at the apartment now, minus a few odds and ends, like my surprisingly large collection of nudie mags.  I've been smoking up all day, and just came back from Drug Dealer John's again.  It was the first time I've seen him cut an eighth of bud in front of me; he had a big Ziplock just filled with weed.  I had to turn away and look at some Penthouse he had lying around to take my eyes off it.  Otherwise, I'd have been like, "Uh, can I run back to the ATM and come back and buy that whole package off you?  Would you take a check?  How about the rental car out front?  It's yours, I'll just say it was stolen."

I actually smoked up the first time today while waiting to check out some guy's car.  There's nothing like weed to get you into the mood to talk business.  Farand told me about this guy who is in danger of defaulting on his 99' Civic, and needs someone to take over payments.  It'd be $325 a month for 60 months, though, so I'm probably gonna pass.  Still, it's tempting -- a new car, not some shitty used one. And it's equity.  And I've got $6K to pay for the first two years or so.  And it might help me get chicks...Fuck! I hate having to think.

I wasn't planning on getting high at the moment before the guy came over, but I just showed my weed to Ray and Farand, and then Farand told a couple of friends who he brought over to Ray's, and I smoked up with one of them.  The dood I smoked up with a financial consultant from NY, and the chick was a lawyer from Chicago.  The lawyer was pretty cute, until I noticed the stubble on her legs that showed through her skirt's slit.  Yick -- I hate hairy legs.  Of course, my legs are Neanderthalish, as a guy I knew once told me. 

Oh SNAP!  Ray's mom found my other bong yesterday, one fucking day before I was gonna move out!  My fucking luck.  Ray said she was cool with it.  I don't know what that means, and I don't think I want to.  Even though Ray said not to worry about it (and it was his idea to hide it in the garage), I still quietly shouted "Fuck!" about 80 times and punched the arm of the couch about a dozen times.  Bad things happen to me and the people around me, man...Anyhow, this makes the third different mom whose found a third different bong of mine; my mom found my old nice one in San Diego, Winston's mom found the stout one we left over at her house, and then Ray's mom finds Bong Jeremy in the garage.  I hope Jenny never invites her mom over to visit our place...

There is this old chick works upstairs in our firm's office.  The Deej had mentioned she used to be an actress waaaaaay back in the day.  So I looked her up. Pretty freaky; I normally only talk to her when she comes down once a month to pick her up $12 Senior Stamp for an MTA bus.  I guess doing menial labor for the accounting department is how actresses can wind up unless they marry rich and stay rich --> That should serve as a warning to all you aspiring starlets out there. 

I took a 500 question purity test yesterday when I was fucking around after work.  I got an 84% score.  The average was like 65%.  Yes, I feel like a loser because of it.  Ultimately, I'd like to have around a 20% score.  I took a purity test for virgins and got a 53.8%.  The average was 44.5%  Christ, I'm so not ever going to get any, even though I consider myself about as morally pure as dirty bathwater.

I had two Dodger tickets to see the Giants/Dodgers game today at 1:00 at Dodger Stadium.  No, I didn't go, and I blew the tickets.  Everybody was busy, or at least they said they were busy.  Of course 6 of us were just sitting around Ray's today at 1:00, watching the Golf Channel...

Shit, I'm tired.  Gonna go home.  Later.