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I Called In Sick Today


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What are you doing up so early, and why are you so very strange?
It's 7:43am here and I am leaving for work now. I'm not strange, come on I was 6 years old. All 6 year olds are weird, I am just more honest about myself than most people/girls. Also I'm not about to say anything fruity about being here for you etc because you know what's up. Anyway, gotta jet now, peace up.
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If you are paying $20 for a haircut, I imagine people assume you did it yourself anyway.

and after 3 days, he is risen!

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Wow, that's a whole lot of truth and soul in one post. Thanks for sharing. The military is the last place in the world that you'll want to be if you have issues with authority, being told what to do and how to do it, or being treated with anything less than the Golden Rule of "do onto others". You will be expected to fit in like a round peg in a round hole at all times, no exceptions. Just be sure you're ready to live that way for 3-4 years before you sign anything. Joining up because you think there aren't options is a bad idea, but it doesn't seem like that's the mindset you're going into it with. For the rest, I've been there, and I feel ya. You can always PM me if you need to vent or if you need advice, I make a pretty good non-judgemental sounding board. Keep your head up, there's nothing that won't shake itself out.
I'm pretty familiar with how things are going to go in there, and even though I sometimes have a problem with authority I doubt it will be a problem. It takes a lot to really rile me up.Thanks broham. I still have your phone number so maybe I'll give you a drunken call or text message as well. How do you like the sound of that, huh? Lucky boy.
There's no better motivator than mysery. I don't know you much at all, but I wanted to wish you the best of luck right now.And now I have a story to tell, too.
Go on...
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It's 7:43am here and I am leaving for work now. I'm not strange, come on I was 6 years old. All 6 year olds are weird, I am just more honest about myself than most people/girls. Also I'm not about to say anything fruity about being here for you etc because you know what's up. Anyway, gotta jet now, peace up.
True. I had a booger wall too. A town down, bitch.
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I'm pretty familiar with how things are going to go in there, and even though I sometimes have a problem with authority I doubt it will be a problem. It takes a lot to really rile me up.Thanks broham. I still have your phone number so maybe I'll give you a drunken call or text message as well. How do you like the sound of that, huh? Lucky boy.
I'm sure my boss at my last job will love to hear from you, since I had to turn that phone in when I stopped working there. Now how do you like *dem* apples?You can call anytime you want to, but you'll have to PM for the new digits foist. It takes almost nothing at all to rile me up or get me to shoot my mouth off, so I just thought I'd warn you since we seem pretty similar in temperment and BS tolerance. Job selection is about the most important thing you'll ever do in the military, make sure you do your homework and pick something that you won't grow to hate in 3 months, and something that will translate to decent job prospects once you rejoin society (if you don't decide you love the military to pieces and want to stay for a full 20). Here's a good site for further research.
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I havent been around, nor have I tried to catch up on whats going on around this joint, but this MADE ME MAD!!!!

Man, this game is uglier than Sam Cassell. 24-23 at halftime.
DONT FUCK WITH MY MAN CASSELL!!
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I'm sure my boss at my last job will love to hear from you, since I had to turn that phone in when I stopped working there. Now how do you like *dem* apples?You can call anytime you want to, but you'll have to PM for the new digits foist. It takes almost nothing at all to rile me up or get me to shoot my mouth off, so I just thought I'd warn you since we seem pretty similar in temperment and BS tolerance. Job selection is about the most important thing you'll ever do in the military, make sure you do your homework and pick something that you won't grow to hate in 3 months, and something that will translate to decent job prospects once you rejoin society (if you don't decide you love the military to pieces and want to stay for a full 20). Here's a good site for further research.
Shuddup.I'm definitely not planning to stay in longer than four years. Thanks for the link.
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Go on...
It's tough to pick exactly where to start this story, so I'm going to try and keep it short and start around the middle.I was 26 and about three years into my career. I was fiercely loyal to the company since I had been there from its inception. I had been promoted to "Director" a year prior but was grossly underpaid - this was an issue that had been beginning to bother me more and more as time went on. I made a little under $60,000 a year - which may be a fair salary for some people, but considering I had basically been single-handedly running the show, I felt I deserved more. But, I helped start the company, and I considered the CEO to be my best friend as we had been together now for four years and had done everything from go out and bang 18 year old college students together on X to cleaning up each others puke when we were drunk and/or heartbroken. I always knew women and money were ranked higher than our friendship in his list of priorities, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt.I finally demanded a raise that December, and was told I could get one if I brought in just one more client. This wasn't a big deal, as I'd brought in 7 of our 9 past clients on my own, so I agreed. Within a month, I had signed our biggest deal yet. We went from a 6 person firm to 25 people overnight, with me managing over a million dollars in advertising budgets alone. It was time for my raise. My friend/CEO told me that I could either get a raise, or hire a personal assistant and wait a little longer for my raise. My first instinct was to go for the raise, but I realized I had been putting in 80 hour work weeks for months now, and my social life had suffered drastically for it. I compromised for the assistant and said I would wait for the raise. My first mistake.A few months prior, even though I had been told we didn't have enough money to give me a raise, we had hired a mutual best friend of ours who was freshly out of the military. He had no discernable skills to speak of and was in no way qualified to work for us, but he'd been promised a position in the company once he was discharged. I resented the decision to hire him, but I took it for face value as a sign of loyalty among friends. When it came time to hire my assistant, the job requirements were pretty thin. After all, the applicant simply had to be able to understand and execute my orders, and be eye candy for clients. The rest I could teach them over time. Our mutual friend who we'd hired a few months prior suggested his ex-wife, a former stripper, as a potential candidate. We agreed to interview her.The moment we saw her, it was blatantly obvious for anyone with the slightest clue that she was absolutely wrong for the position. She was far too good looking - a literal 10 in my eyes. A bone of contention between the CEO and myself had been women before, as we'd had major turmoil in our relationship not long ago when he decided to sleep with a girl I was heavily interested in - and I, unbeknownst to him to this day, retaliated by sleeping with his girlfriend a few months later. This was the worst hiring decision we could have made, but we did anyway because we were both known to think with our dicks - we lied to ourselves and said it would not be a big deal.It was a big deal.Within a month, she and I were sleeping together. He freaked out. For brevity's sake, we'll skip to a month later when he "asked" me to resign from the company. I had no choice, I resigned.She stopped sleeping with me pretty immediately after, but kept coming around every night. I didn't date anyone else as I kept up hope that she and I would get together again once the entire mess died down. She introduced me to cocaine. I had dabbled in drugs before, like mushrooms and pot, but never really took a liking to anything in particular to do it more than a few times. This was different. I loved it.In the meantime, I had befriended a little mini-me. A lesbian I had stumbled across at a local bar who was my splitting image right down to the shaven head and the New Rock boots. She and I hit it off right away and were two peas in a pod. We did everything together. Played pool, hung out every day, checked out hot girls, and did copious amounts of drugs.I still had my priorities in order, though - and with the help of my new lesbian friend (with money) I had decided to start a competing firm out of spite. I knew I could do the job, and I knew I could do it better. What was still a lingering friendship between myself and my former CEO suddenly went to shit when he heard of my intentions. My non-compete which he'd let me out of (in writing) was suddenly being enforced and lawyers were being flung around left and right. This fight lasted three months.Three months of limbo over whether or not I could start my own company, and tens of thousands of dollars in savings just burning a hole in my pocket. I took to the drugs pretty quickly.What was once casual use of a gram here or there, suddenly turned into an 8-ball a night addiction. I didn't have a care in the world, though. I had a new best friend who was even cooler than the one who had betrayed me, the girl I had fallen hard for was still coming around, and when she wasn't, I had a different girl over every night of the week. As far as I was concerned, this was the peak of my happiness. Until Ozzfest.It was the night before Ozzfest and I was at a local strip club with some friends when we ran into the band Slipknot. We were doing shots of liquid cocaine (Goldshlagger, Rumplemints, 151) with the 151 layered on top so we could light them on fire before drinking them. I was on my 12th within the hour, and the last thing I remember is accidently setting my hand on fire.I woke up in a jail cell with 2nd degree burns on my right hand and zero memory of what had happened after I had set my hand on fire. I got up and knocked on the glass window to my cell to see what had happened, and they looked over something and told me that I was just there to sleep it off and would be free to go in a few hours. They had no further information about why I was there. I asked for a blanket and went back to sleep.I got out of jail at 11 in the morning and had no money on me and my cell phone was nowhere to be found. I immediately found a pay phone and called my lesbian friend to see what had happened - no answer. I called the girl - no answer. I decided to look around and finally realized I was a few blocks from a bar I frequented. I made the walk there.Ironic sidetrack: As I'm walking to the bar, a cop car stops me and say hello. I am confused and worried considering where I had just woken up, but quickly realize it's a local cop who we had had drinks with a week before at our local watering hole. He was there with his gorgeous blonde partner who I was hitting on. They'd been off duty and at the bar the day before when we were smoking pot outside for everyone to see, and had done nothing about it. So they were cool in our books, and we'd invited them for drinks when we spotted them there that second night.Anyway, I exchange pleasantries with the cop for a minute then make my way to the bar. I get inside and a friend of mine is bartending. I have a little hair of the dog, and call a cab to take me home. I use the cabbies cell to call mine, and a stranger answers. I'm like, "Who are you and why do you have my phone?" It was my friend Joe from the night before - I had left it in his car.I asked him what the hell happened, and he sounded confused, "What do you mean?""I woke up in jail, dude." I responded."No way," he replied."Yes way. What the hell happened?" I asked again."How do I know dude, I dropped you off at home." he said."Home?" I was even more confused."Well, like next door at the girls house." She and I lived in the same complex."Oh, shit..." It started coming back to me.Apparently, her front door was unlocked, and I walked (in this case, stumbled) in as I usually do only to find her going at it with my best friend. Now I don't have a temper and have never really lost my cool before, and I don't remember a lick of this, but the story goes that I got quite upset and kicked her dining room table in half and threw bottles and shot glasses across the room. Thus, the cops were called, and I ended up in jail.Makes sense why they didn't answer their phones or return my calls, though.But this was nothing to get hung up about, I had Ozzfest to go to. As we're driving there, Joe hands me back my cell phone and as I reach into my back pocket, I feel a piece of paper in it. I pull it out and it has a strange girl's name and phone number on it."Who the hell is this?" I ask.Joe starts laughing, "You don't remember?""No. I'm asking because I do." I grumble."It's the bartender from last night, bro." He continues to laugh."The blonde with the big tits?" my interest perked."Yeah man, she gave you her number after she put a wet towel around your hand to put out the fire." He's cackling at this point."Nice," I bask in my glorious ability to get a hot girls phone number even while i'm on fucking fire.Ozzfest was a great time, as expected. Lots of alcohol, lots of drugs, and I managed to get a girl to take off her top and give me a lap dance during the Judas Priest opening set. She came back home with me.The next day, I find out from a mutual friend that they had gone to the courthouse and were pressing charges against me. No criminal charges could be pressed because the police witnessed nothing and I had not touched either of them personally, but they could file civil charges.Now there I am, with no job, money quickly running out due to excessive drug use, about to be served a warrant - with an unregistered hand gun and enough cocaine in my house to send me away for a very long time....To Be Continued.
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GL Turd, I hope things work out for you. May I ask what the girl did to drive you away like that? Also, why is it that you are so cold and unemotional that you could treat her that way even after 2 years together? Is it one of those things that bad past experiences made you that way, or are you just a naturally unemotional person? (I ask because I am kind of cold and unemotional for the most part, but even I would be upset after breaking off a 2 year relationship.)

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That's intense. Excellent story so far. I can't wait for the rest. P.S. You get way too many women to fit in around here.
No shit on both counts. Not that I'm politely showing you the door or anything. Minus the drugs and money, you're right where I was 2 years ago, and I'm enjoying the flashback.
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Before I continue I should note that I grew up in Los Angeles, but had relocated to the east coast for this job.My 27th birthday was two days away. I spoke with my attorney, who told me (off the record) that I should probably just get away from the drugs and the girl, and come back to deal with the backlash when I have my life in order. It was sound advice. So I decided to have one last celebration with my friends on my birthday and just move back to Los Angeles to get away from the nonsense.The day before my birthday there's a knock at my door. It was the police. The drugs and gun were still in my apartment, but I had hidden it away. Much to my surprise, I was only served with a restraining order, and not a warrant. They said the restraining order noted that I had a hand gun in the house and that it was to be confiscated until the court date. I denied the existance of such a gun and claimed the allegation was just made in spite. I even offered for the officers to look around the apartment. They declined and said it wasn't necessary. I asked them if that was it, because i'd heard about them pressing charges as well. The officers said that those usually take a few days longer, as restraining orders are approved and served immediately for safety concerns - and if such charges had been filed, I would not receive those papers until a couple days later.The next morning, on my birthday, I called the police station to ask about my situation. Sure enough, there were two warrants out in my name - Second Degree Tresspassing, and Destruction of Private Property. I hung up the phone and laughed. Second Degree Tresspassing, how petty.So we're out on my birthday and I meet this attractive young girl. She's 19 and has a smoking body. More interestingly, she's paying me absolutely no attention and is just there as a high school friend of one of my buddies. A girl who paid me no attention, on my fucking birthday? I think not. I turned up the charm, pointing out her flaws and ignoring her back. Key techniques I learned in grade school that work to this day.The lesbian shows up at the bar we're having my birthday celebration at (which we knew was a possibility) so we immediately kick in Plan B and I high tail it out of there. We reconvene at a friends house to continue the celebration. We buy ourselves a couple 8 balls of coke, and continue to party up the night. The group goes out to get some juice and more coke as we'd run out by now, and the hottie and I remain in the house to finish the few remaining lines."I'll let you see my tits if I can do half of your last line." she says."I've seen plenty of tits before, you gotta do better than that." I don't miss a beat.So she's straddled on my lap and I'm sucking on her nipples as the others finally get back to the house. They smile and nod in approval and make way to the back bedroom as she and I continue on the couch in the living room. I wave hello from underneath her.Skip ahead to seven in the morning when she and I are back at my place with a brand new 8 ball in hand. We're having deep conversations as one usually does when high on coke, when suddenly this chick starts fucking shaking and drooling, and falls off her chair. She's having a motherfucking seizure on my dining room floor and now I have a warrant out in my name, and an OD'd chick on my hands.I call up my friend Emily and tell her to get her ass over to my place immediately, as we're gonna bury this bitch if we have to. I pick the girl up and carry her to my bed as she begins to come to, not remembering what just happened. I tell her and she shrugs and wants to do another line - not on my watch, babe.Anyway, enough about her.She gets better and drives home, and I head out to my local watering hole for the night. I've already decided that I'm going to bang every chick I hadn't yet before moving back, and high on the list was this cute bartender that worked there. She agrees to come over to my place.We get there and I break out the coke when she looks at me for a moment and pauses."What's up?" I ask."Promise not to freak out?" She asks back."Spit it out, princess." I speed up the pace.She pulls out a pack of brand new syringes and says that she does her heroine and coke that way, and if I'd mind. I'm a long fucking way from Kansas for someone who went to private school and had never done hard drugs before in his life. So I do what any reasonable person who just had a chick OD in his apartment the night before would do: I say of course she can, and would she mind if I tried it too.She hands me half the pack of fresh syringes so that we make sure not to share, and I cross the point of no return. If on a scale of 1 to 10 snorting coke was a 9, then this was an exquisite 100. I had felt nothing like it before, and had it killed me then and there, I would have died a happy man. We do this all night and have pretty remarkable sex, and I send her on her way when the drugs run out. She asks if I wanted to keep going and try some heroine, but I somehow manage to grip onto the last tiny bit of sanity I have left and decline.I walk her out and bid her farewell, and I get in my car to go get myself a hotel room. I know the cops are coming any minute now, and I have to sleep. Plus, I have a new habit that I'm just itching to do more of.I crash for about 10 hours, and when I wake up I decide to call the young girl from my birthday to see how she's doing. She's well and invites me over to her place to watch a movie. I take a short break from the chaos and drugs and tell her I'd come over only if no drugs were involved. She agreed and said she wasn't interested in doing any at that time anyway. We watch a movie and have a pleasant time together. This girl had an overdose in my apartment the first night I met her, and I'm leaving town in a week. The only reasonable thing to do is start up a relationship with her. But more on this later, right now I have more self-destructing to do.I go pick up a ton more coke and a bunch of new syringes and head back to my hotel room. What was supposed to be a couple days in hiding to get myself in order to leave town turns out to be eight straight days of binging to the point of barely being able to move my arms because they're so sore and bloody. I can barely see straight anymore. I'm slowly killing myself.I go to get more money and score some more coke, when the ATM machine spits out my receipt. I have $6,000 left to my name. I'm going to be broke and alone soon, with no place to live and no job. This was an intense realization.I call my parents back in Los Angeles, in tears. I tell them whats going on. Everything. I don't even know what they'll say or how they'll react, I just know I need to tell them. They're both very old country, and since I last saw them, I've gotten my left arm entirely tattoo'd, pierced my ears, and now I have an increasingly bad drug habit. I tell them that if they'll have me, I'd like to come home and get my life in order.They start crying too. Much to surprise, my hard-ass father whom I would have never expected this from, tells me that I'm his only child and that he loves me - I'm welcome in his house any time. Pack your shit and come home, son - you need your family right now he tells me.I throw out the drugs, dispose of the gun, and pack up all my essentials into my car in four hours time - leaving behind all my furniture in the apartment I would never give notice to. I make one final stop at the young girls house to kiss her goodbye, and to drop off my dog so she can watch over him as I drive across the country. But this is not quite rock bottom enough for me.To Be Continued.

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Good stuff, but I'm going to have to read the rest of it when I wake up in the afternoon. You should seriously look into writing crime novels or something of the like. You have a very natural flow in your writing style, and you're one of the only people in this thread who's ever been able to make me read every word they wrote in a long post). I'm Adam, BTW, I don't think I was really here when you started posting.

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GL Turd, I hope things work out for you. May I ask what the girl did to drive you away like that? Also, why is it that you are so cold and unemotional that you could treat her that way even after 2 years together? Is it one of those things that bad past experiences made you that way, or are you just a naturally unemotional person? (I ask because I am kind of cold and unemotional for the most part, but even I would be upset after breaking off a 2 year relationship.)
She didn't do anything notably bad to me. It was mostly just the normal wear and tear a relationship can have over a two year span, especially when the people in the relationship aren't the best for eachother. That's just my nature. We had broken up two times previously, and I was upset then. I even cried during one breakup, which is very rare for me. I only cry maybe once a year or twice if it's a bad year. By this time I had pretty much done what grieving I needed to do. As far as telling her not to feel sorry for herself, everyone has problems and they're always worse than the ones you have. Always.
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My favorite part of Phil Gordon's one and only post thusfar here on FCP, it applies so perfectly well to the situation with Peter's FT analysis last month:

DN: Erick is a good buddy of mine, obviously, so you might say that I'm being biased. I'd challenge you to find 20 top players that think your comments where either accurate (in assessing his play), or appropriate coming from a TV Commentator/Author. Phil: No, I think you are being “Daniel.” You are unable to acknowledge that anyone who has an opinion different that your own could possibly be right — or even partially right. As far as me being a “TV Commentator and Author” goes, I’m guilty as charged. While you may be the best player in the world, I’m more than happy to be one of the best writers and teachers. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. By the way, I think you are an excellent writer yourself.
The whole thread in the Blog section is definitely worth a read, and might turn into quite the war.
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Shuddup.I'm definitely not planning to stay in longer than four years. Thanks for the link.
Yeah if you want to travel, the air force is the best option. Plus you can do lots of things. I would try to get a european post if you can. When I enlisted in the army I did absolutely 0 research. I was going to ccsu to play soccer, decided 2 weeks before classes I would join the army and was gone in a month. My mom cried for 3 days straight.If I could do it over again, I wouldve joined the Air Force. They certainly have the best, look the best, and go to the coolest places. Youll see what I mean. The airforce actually takes care of its people unlike the army did. Good luck and if you pray allah bless.
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Good stuff, but I'm going to have to read the rest of it when I wake up in the afternoon. You should seriously look into writing crime novels or something of the like. You have a very natural flow in your writing style, and you're one of the only people in this thread who's ever been able to make me read every word they wrote in a long post). I'm Adam, BTW, I don't think I was really here when you started posting.
Thanks for the compliment, much appreciated. Wait until part 4 of the story and then tell me what you think.And I'm Dan, and now we know each other. Wanna hug it out?
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Thanks for the compliment, much appreciated. Wait until part 4 of the story and then tell me what you think.And I'm Dan, and now we know each other. Wanna hug it out?
Umm yeah, how much longer do I have to wait?Im like glued to it, I need it like you need another 8ball, like a 10yr old needs a new harry potter, like ronmexico needs a royale with cheesewhens the 4th installment?
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Umm yeah, how much longer do I have to wait?Im like glued to it, I need it like you need another 8ball, like a 10yr old needs a new harry potter, like ronmexico needs a royale with cheesewhens the 4th installment?
I'll work on it shortly, some other stuff came up that I needed to deal with.So you likes?
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I'll work on it shortly, some other stuff came up that I needed to deal with.So you likes?
Very very much soLike Adam, it's one of the very few long posts I've actually read.
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Thanks for the compliment, much appreciated. Wait until part 4 of the story and then tell me what you think.And I'm Dan, and now we know each other. Wanna hug it out?
Sure, as long as I get first reach around!Oh yeah, I'm still up. Had to go shovel the entire goddamn atmosphere out of my driveway this morning so my girl could go to work. For however many bullets we dodged last week with the weather, Mother Nature is making Rochester her personal bitch this morning.
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Sure, as long as I get first reach around!Oh yeah, I'm still up. Had to go shovel the entire goddamn atmosphere out of my driveway this morning so my girl could go to work. For however many bullets we dodged last week with the weather, Mother Nature is making Rochester her personal bitch this morning.
lol Deal.Hope you can stay up, parts 3 and 4 are incoming shortly.
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wine update
thanks. How about a wine forum? I know that JJJ would aprreciate another forum.
hahaha that's how I read it at first too, probably because of Mexico always talking about the Jews
and Chinks and Wops and Micks and Gays and
Turd update
GL man. You are young and have plenty of life left to figure what you want.
IQ story
I don't remember any previous story about fing up young love, but afer reading this. You win.
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