Quick Post/ backdated post

Ok, in Cali for work, doing lots of stuff. sorry I haven't been around, but been working on something I'm keeping quiet on for just a few more days/weeks. It involves writing, let me just say that.

And, I haven't ditched our writing sample just yet, I will try to add something in the next day or two...

here's what I wrote up a day or two ago. Not my finest writing, but I was sitting next to a hot blond on an airplane and ended up chatting with her instead of finishing this. priorities, man.

June 10, 2006 4:42PM.

Planes. Again.

Just finished up in San Jose on a whirlwind of a one-day trip. Got in about 9PM last night. Was hooked up by dollar with a new Dodge Charger. Underwhelming power – will we ever regain true muscle car status? The hotel I stayed at had some kind of bangin’ (that’s right, I said BANGIN’) nightclub, but my head would decompress. Some kind of super-engineered sinal infection has taken lodging in my head and presents itself in the most inopportune time. Yesterday, it was on the slow – and agonizing – descent into San Jose. I was trying to will myself to pass out as opposed to sitting aware in my seat, but no luck.

I don’t think that I’ve ever actually passed out. Wait, I lie. I did pass out – I think – during one particularly nasty hangover post-St. Patrick’s Day. I had asserted my all around manliness by spending 17hours straight in a bar. I believe my nearest competition caved after 8. You all must recognize. Anyway, the next day was far from fantastic, as I woke up and proceeded to eject poison from every orifice imaginable. And, let me tell you, it’s worse then that last sentence sounds. Anyway, I remember lying on the couch, praying to whatever god took pity on those who rendered themselves shit-faced to put me out of my misery. Somewhere during my prayers, I believe I physically passed out.

I remember the only other time I came close was when I was donating blood. I am a total wuss when it comes to needles. I may have been heavy into drugs during my youth (who wasn’t?), but I was never in any danger of becoming a junkie, that’s for damn sure. Anyway, I had to have blood taken – I think for a standard physical – and I waited my turn. When called, I proceeded to take my place in the chair, and be strapped in. I turned my head away – did I mention I hate needles? – and gritted my teeth, sitting extremely tense. The nurse proceeded to plunge the needle into my arm, then commented on how she was not getting anything. As I sat there in what surely must have been a half hour of no blood, she explained how I had such nice veins. Um, thanks? She proceeded, to stab me again in an attempt to pull out my precious lifeforce from my “nice veins” this time, the blood flowed freely. She pulled out the needle, swabbed me off, and proclaimed an all clear. Suddenly, the world began to cave in on itself and I felt myself growing week. I went through extreme strain to keep myself conscious, actually breaking out in a massive sweat. I made it through, but wasn’t allowed to drive home for half an hour.

I DIDN’T EVEN GET A FREAKING LOLLIPOP.