(diaryland) April 6, 2001 - 6:24 p.m.

Woo-hoo! Internet! I love internet. We are getting it at my house soon. Then the diary entries shall come thick and fast.

There's a clammy, sleazy guy who my office does work for and that my boss is good friends with. He and my boss like to have lunch at the Men's Gallery, the sort of place that has lots of gyrating of the female sort. They run down there but they pretend they're doing lunch downstairs in the cafe that sells bagels. This friend of the boss wears the kind of jewellry that Flava Flav might enjoy wearing down the pub. I didn't think that real people actually wore that kind of jewellry. He keeps sending my boss e-mails with pictures of women masturbating each other in spas. As soon as he comes in the office, me and the other two females that work there run for cover because otherwise he comes up really close and starts talking and you can't help thinking he's imagining you masturbating your colleague in a spa. Today I didn't run fast enough. He said:

"I think the other two girls are intimidated of me."

I said: "Na, man. They're just getting lunch. They're hungry."

He said: "They're hungry?" Evil smile. "Aren't we all?"

HUH? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Does that mean he is hungry for food, or hungry for some other kind of life-force?

I think that it would be cool if one day, Michele and I went to the Men's Gallery, and then they walked in and saw us there. But we have to go to Goldfingers first.

On Wednesday, I wanted to go home from work on time, so I said I had to go buy socks. This meant I had to actually go buy some socks that night and wear them the next day. It was stressful. Next time, I'm going to say I have a headache.

This is me.