I.....don't wanna work... (you know...like the song?)

Know what?? The Ramada is for losers. Most of the guests fall into this category, whether they are hookers, porn stars, or just your run-of-the-mill bum who has, in one way or another, got their grimy mits on approximately eighty dollars.  Then, there's the crazies.  Honestly, it is frightening how many completely out of their gourds crazy people decide to stay at the Ramada. Probably because of the voices...

A few weeks ago, this really old guy in a wheelchair checked in with the aid of his cab driver. First of all, the odor emminating from him was a not so subtle mixture of urine and corpse.  In fact, he left the lobby reaking so horribly that my regional manager was walking around spraying air freshener and gagging for about five minutes. The guy also claimed he was self sufficient. He wasn't.  He called the fucking desk every five minutes. Once, he wanted one of the maids to go up there and pick up a piece of lettuce that he had dropped.  He explained that he would've picked it up himself, but then he would have to wash the latex gloves he obsessively wore, and that would cause him to miss one of three baseball games he was watching that day. 

That is just one of many, many examples of the "interesting" people that stay at the Ramada.

As if that weren't enough, there is so much drama between the employees that sometimes I feel like I'm on a fucking episode of Melrose Place. No one should have to hear the phrase "my baby's daddy" more than once in a day.

Also, my pay sucks.  I'm almost embarrassed to say that I get paid 7.75 an hour.  I mean, we get little extras, such as commission on suites, but an extra hundred bucks a month doesn't do too much for me.

Taking all of this into consideration, I have decided to say "adios" forever to the Ramada.  I am working the next few days, then I'm going to Pittsburgh for a week, then I'm out! I mean, seriously. Screw this job. I think I'll take a poop on one of the beds before I leave.

Hey bitches, I'm back...

Well, it's been quite some time (november 24th, to be exact), that I have attempted an entry on this little known blog site called Xanga. That it because, poor loser that I am, I did not have a computer, let alone the internet. At first, I said to myself, "I'm not one of those people that are always online, so why would I need the internet??" Funny how many things you realize you need the internet for when you don't have it.  At times of desparation, I have even visited the CSUN computer labs, just to get a few minutes on that wonderful invention. Technically speaking, I'm not even allowed into those labs because I'm no longer a CSUN student.  Pretty sad.

Anyway, my predicament severely improved today with the credit card purchase of my very own HP notebook computer. I know very little about computers, but I know it burns DVDs and CDs, and has built in wireless capabilities (hence my ability to illegally surf the net as I speak, at work). Good fuckin enough for me! I spent hours just browsing myspace for friends to add. SO, most likely, no one is reading this, seeing as how I haven't posted for quite some time...but I will hopefully be posting often, so perhaps I will attract a few readers.

Well, since I have been on the internet all night in lieu of paperwork I should've been doing, I must go and try to close my shift before my coworker comes in.  And, since my boss has the courtesy to schedule me at seven a.m. tomorrow after my 3-11 pm shift, I'd rather not deduct further from sleep by leaving late.  After all, I need at least a good hour after work to smoke a bowl and watch some tv.  Later!!!

Ok. SO this is gonna be one of those "i'm fucked up and bored xanga entries"....So bear with me for a second...this might turn out to be pretty interesting...

Well, I'm not going to incriminate myself, but lets just say i've been up for about 30 hours and 2 xanax aren't really doing much...well, i guess they're making me kind of sleepy, and forgetting how to spell certain words that i've known all my life...Kind of creepy  .. . <i know i fucked that up, but i don't care! In fact, i think i'm gonna leave all my spelling errors in my entry right now. starting now, you can see how well my hands are working on the keyboard.

ok. so, i've stitting here at dan's. shelly and dan are slepeing and i am the oneul yy  idiot stilll awake.  my fine motror skills are obviously dimmisjishing, as yo u can see from my hi=orrible typing skills. so perhapsm , i should go to bed,,,,,,ha....itsn't that fi=un>? jus type what you tupe ane dont' fix any errorrs,. whow.....i loook liieke a five yearf of ld typing...if i was soberm this would be flawless!!! flasweless it say! Ihahahaha...OK enough of not changing shit...i'm not even sure if anyone can read that..

Anyway, the translation is, I AM FUCKIN WASTED AND TIRED AND BETTER PASS OUT!! PEACE!

PS. Duarty's party was fun...happy b-day!