That blonde girl from that TV show High School Musical seems like a nice kid. She’s really into bags and um…Fort Minor…I don’t know, shes blonde. And her sister is really hot.

E-40 came in the other day. Hell of a guy, he walked right up to me, shook my hand. He asked me about my job for a second, and cracked jokes about how he still hasn’t been on Fuse or a cereal box.

More importantly though, he left his liquor behind. Free booze for me. Which meant that like a jerk, I am on the crowded subway just hours later holding a massive jug of 8 dollar burgundy, with my backpack full of the kind of liquor they write rap songs about.

Anytime. Any fucking time.

I got hammered alone on my roof and I was hung over, red lipped, and late for work the next day.

I’m a moron.

About two weeks into my new job here, I’m told to watch an assistant’s phone for “five minutes”. Im not that good at these damn phones, but this particular assistant is hot and has a big butt so I have too much of a half-stock to ask for help.

Inevitably, this phone rings, I pick up, and there’s no one there. So I panic and hit the only other active line. I start saying, “Hello? Helloooo? How can I help you?? Helloooo?”. Im sure my thick midwest accent makes me sould like a dipshit. All I hear is a cacophony of voices on the other end. So I continue being a moron, “Hellooooo?”. A label exec runs out of his office saying “Dude, what the fuck?? HANG. UP. THE PHONE.” Turns out I had stumbled into a multi-coastal conference call with Paris Hilton.

I feel like a jerk and dont talk to anyone for the rest of the day.