There's a few things eating away at my gut right now, so I figured I'd get them off my chest here.

To Alayah, the reason I never got back to you regarding the radio station is that Ritchie isn't talking to me. Hence, my involvement with WNTI and helping out on his slot is a null issue. I'm sorry! I didn't even get a chance to play him your stuff, which totally would've gone over great on the show! I suck.

I've been spending about an hour trying to contact someone at NJ's Dept. of Labor because I've been scheduled to participate in a telephone fact-finding interview. Apparently, one of my answers to their "Did you refuse any work?" question has been translated into me saying something suspect. The correct answer to the DOL's question should've been "No sir, I did not refuse any work." But I answered with something like, "Well, there was this one opportunity a recruiter notified me about, but it was a temporary assignment and too far away for me to work. So, yes, I did." When in actuality, the recruiter later told me, "We already have a candidate who the client is very interested in persuing; if you aren't fully interested, I'd rather not submit them your resume." So... that's the truth: I didn't even GET a chance to turn the job down, yet I said "yes" to the DOL's question.

Now they think I'm trying to scam them out of money. Fuck, I don't even like the idea of collecting unemployment, if you want to know the truth. There's such a stigma to it, to me. Even though I know my circumstances fully warrant me making use of this service, which God and the IRS both know I've fully paid into with all my tax money... But still.

And I don't know if I like the idea of hanging out with Boss on Wednesday night because if I do, something naughty (but PG-13 rated) might happen. And then, if I ever wanted to work at that company, he might work to keep that from happening, I don't know. It was a weird (but fun!) conversation we had last night... some of previous feelings got tickled, feelings I worked hard to box up and hide in a closet.

And what about Alex? I haven't told you guys about him, the kid who has a pornstar penis, and how I came to find that out. That's another thing that should get boxed up, and QUICK, because I really do want to make this me'n'Anthony thing work.

And why did Jason call me last night? I was drunk (SURPRISE), and was telling him he was being silly for even pretending with me. I interrogated him 2 nights ago, asking him if he got lots of pelt on tour ("Do you mean chicks?" "No. I mean beaver pelt. YES, I mean chicks.") and his answer, as I expected, was a resounding "yes!" So, like, bro: why be a silly billy with me? He still tells me he loves me, and I go "I luv you too!" Maybe I shouldn't do that, but I meant "luv" when I wrote "luv," not "love," but "luv," and maybe that's a difference that can only be seen, and not heard over phones.

Oh, Department of Labor... I really AM looking for a job, and not trying to rape the system.