This wonderful monster of a machine had it's gears parked on cool. I'm swimming in life. Been finding it difficult to approach the electronic alterego side of this freak. Seems all I do is open this muther with concessions lately. Once the seesaw balances all the versions of myself on the playground, regular updates will occur. Stricty for my own sanity safeguards.

Absolute spankerific splendiferous week. Proceed with the recall proof. Initiate.

Monday. Personally engineering the flow to remove clock punching from Mondays a fucking fantastic idea. Gold star sticker to the spanky voice that spoke up on that decision. Sing louder in the skull chorus you rascal. I don't know which dancing bottle imp you are up in there, but keep up the valiant work.

Those able to withstand prolonged written spanky exposure will recall tales of fledgling mourning doves birthed on my fire escape last Autumn. Ma and Pa Feathers set up breeding grounds again this month. Despite the fact the nasty fag nextdoor removed the large terra cotta pot they built the last nest in. Winged homies said "whatever bitch", just cooked eggs on the next available vessel. Monday morning was the first day the kids were developed enough to be seen from my slumber wake up perch. Hope my fire escape turns into a dove factory. Dope butter.

Day of chores. Visit the tailor to fix the buttons on my wool jacket. Deposit my first paycheck from the new gig. Roll up the sleeves and get my second scheduled inoculation for hepatitis, all B type and shit. Stroll through Broadway and fulfill cinema intake levels with Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Spanky seal of viewing approval. Snag a Grasshopper at Lucky's and mad chill at the crib.

Tuesday. Began the shift parked outside of Toys R' Us by Union Square. Apparent supervisory concerns suggested I move closer to a senior dialoger.

One sign up of a Long Island chick. Breaking down her defenses finally after breezing past many of us in the last months walking back and forth to NYU. Basically told her to fuck the dumb shit, sign up. She was my only link for the day.

Wednesday. Off to Columbus Circle. The office is in a bit of a crisis. Influx of rookies creating a zero gain situation. Costing the charity money to have us on payroll. Gristle trimming demanded of all leaders. Insisted I be put on probation. Understandable as the previous troll spanky week procured only two saviors. Constant worries of loading my diapers with liquified brown fury dampened my meet and greet ferver. Already decided the night before to kick out the jams. Probation didn't fade me. I gots your probation swinging.

Was told I needed to grab three sign ups a day to solidify my presence in the pantheon. Daddy paid them bills by snagging four of them devils. It got good to me. Feelin it, feelin it.

The first lady I ushered into the program was a breeze. Thanked her for making a difference, she flashed her cancer society badge, "that's what I do". Werd em up lady girl. An Asian gentlemen with inadvisable haphazard sparse whiskers stumbled around looking for lost spectacles. Assisted him with his search, and found the Coke bottles for him. His signature was my reward. Don't recall the third person, shame shame shame memory tracker spanky. Fourth was a mother of newborn twins. Brilliant sky blue eyes took some convincing. She was down once I suggested her kids will love a South American pen pal one day.

James King, the model, almost stopped. I was processing the recognition equations when I asked her to slow down, wouldn't have it. She actually came back for a second round after just giving me the Heisman palm. She smirked, almost gave into curiousity, the cranium software finally produced an answer, "lovely afternoon miss King", and she chuckle hotfoots it outta there.

Thursday. Time to work it in front of D'Agostino's on University Place. Dodging the smoke breaks of sound technician students and garbage pick up for grocery refuse, I landed another four.

A smoldering brunette sound student asked, "do you like your job?". "Aw, hell yeah, hell yeah." And I actually sincerly meant it. Out of shock she decided to listen to my pitch. No doubt munchkins, she was in my back pocket. Her eleven year old Phillipino girl will be getting some warm grains to fill her belly, a mattress to get her off the dirt floor, and a fresh set of school clothes.

Vulcan mind meld on a older lady with an inching pace. Swear I had some mental control over her motor functions. Pulled her in like a snake charmer. A gentleman resembling a tortoise took some convincing. Couldn't even tell ya what I said to make him a starving kid's sponsor. Alas, as trends seem to go, can't recall one fourth of the pedestrians I introduced to the red hot solutions. Damnable housefly memory.

Celebrated the emergence of my superstar batting average with a crew hang. Javier was at Mona's with a coworker who started taking improv classes. Insisted on bending my stage experienced ear. I terrified her with my nonchalance of facing an audience. Later in the evening she tried playing Suzie Matchmaker with me and her Australian best friend. Another chick that wants to see the extinction of adamant bachelors. I passed. Commitment phobics and commitment acolytes parted ways. Sparked a lantern at Luke's crib. Cedric The Explainer insisted on teaching the room French phrases. Jav got extremely non sequitor. Keith got antsy and demanded the posse go on a trim hunt. Shirer showed up livid. Mellowed her out a nonce with some Green Lantern power. Headed for Whiskey Ward. I balked on continuos bar crawling. Cemented my ass in a stool, had wonderful chats with Shawna, the bartender, of my current nonprofit endeavors. Watched pals depart.

Friday. Spring cracks. Great gumby monkeys!

Spanky put his cock on the sidewalks amid Columbia's campus. Erected a record setting day. I was a demon. Seven sign ups. The ladies were out enjoying the first official warm day. I was popping them off like Cracker Jacks. The girls were not prepared for me. They had no choice but to listen to what I had to say. Deviant freak charms put to noble use? No doubt. My chest stretched, my skin sang, I changed the lives of seven unfortunates.

Back at the office, was informed I was now in an exclusive club. Select few to reach a seven pinnacle for a day. Props abound.

Saturday. Rough commute to Park Slope. I told my team leader the rain will have desisted by the time we emerge from subway holes. Thor spanky used his devine hammer mightily. Mjollnir, my faithful weapon, never fails. The clouds parted.

I was on a precipice to achieve massive respect. Four signatures and I would score twenty for the week. Immediate start. Ten minutes in and I had my first. A mother of two special needs children. Moments before lunch break I wrapped up a humanities tutor. Snarfed down some pastrami. Jumped out the box and nailed another gentleman. The minutes ticked away, nervously I knew it closing in. Five minutes to Six, the departure time, I rallied an industrial design engineer. Literally, I told him that he had to sign up to set my record. He was sold.

Impossible to even suggest I wasn't gonna go buck wild that night. Hung with the coworkers at Gatsby's for the second night in a row. Mad dancing. Mad giggles. Sparked up in a parked car. Finished my joy with the honies at default bar. They were wearing naughty private school girl outfits. Bliss.

While soaking my liver with nutritious, life fountain vodka, the inspiration flowed in from all angles. Many cocktail napkins scribbled upon. The following is what my inebriated wisdom discovered.

First, I was amused at the fact I accidentally dropped the napkins I was writing on. Caught one midair, the other quickly floated down to the sticky tile. Spun the one I snatched around. Woo hoo! The blank one hit the floor. No need to bend over.

The drunk to my left, while recalling a party at Lucky Cheng's, said "I'm just a chick, with a pussy on a stick."

I remembered the aging hippie in Park Slope earlier that day. I attempted to take a few moments of his time. He didn't break his wiggly stride, "I'm tripping my balls off right now", and kept motoring down the sidewalk with a huge smile. I decided I would not do anything until he sauntered over the horizon and I could no longer observe his swagger. His presence deserved attentive observation.

One internal voice piped up loudly. Watching the girls jiggle under their plaid short skirts. "Women on display for our pleasure." Spawned a wonderful multi accented dissertation in the skull on all the moments we've been involved with chicks giving up the skin for our collective amusement. All praises due.

After James Brown erupted from the jukebox, Whitey Shortsleeves spilled out this gem from his face hole. "Yeah right, I'm Black and I'm proud. Pfft. Now, if I sang 'I'm White and I'm proud', I'd be called a racist." Awwwwww, poor you. Same milktoast bullshit that gets angry that Black folks are allowed to say nigga and they can't without angry responses. Guess what, get over it. Raping an entire continent to line ivory tower's pockets has completely revoked your slur privileges. You wanna know why it's in bad taste to announce that you're white and proud? Us pale faces took everything, control everything unshared, decide the unfair fates of everyone. It's gross to suggest that it's awesome. Just enjoy the fact that ignorant cunts don't clutch their purses when you walk by them at night. Stankwad khaki twerps.

Thus endeth the quaffed brilliance.

Yee haw. I am loving the shit out of this current bent. Bring the oncoming days. I am so rockin out with my cock out. Peace, love and hair grease.