B is making his compositionally extravagant chili tonight and I am not allowed in the kitchen because I might get my mojo on it.

The dish contains most (or all if you believe everything B says) of the following: beef, beans, onions, garlic, tomatoes, carrots, jalapenos, habanero, Guiness, sweat, blood, time, effort and mojo.

Watching him is fun. He looks so serious. He has no idea I'm writing about him.

I went to the aikido class and had not the remotest idea what I was doing, but I followed along anyway. Aikido is looking to be kind of pricey, but I think I can wing it. I want to and will. If it ends up breaking me, I'll find an alternate employment situation.

I'll pick up my last check from the call center on Friday.

I got my hair cut to chin length yesterday. In middle school, this same haircut netted me the nickname weinerhead. I spent 45 minutes in the mall waiting to go to Master Cuts only to have the condescending cunt working there try to talk me out of my haircut. The only thing she succeeded in was talking me out of letting her do my haircut. I went elsewhere.

My boss, who is owed approximately $1300 by S, told me that S is up to her old tricks once more. She's disappeared off the map again, neglecting the payments on her ridiculous debt.

She's so fucking lucky she has people who actually want to take care of her sorry ass.

Uh oh, he's whipped out the habanero. Trouble's coming. More on this later.