Wheat germ and milk

I was supposed to go to Capoeira training today, but this earlier start time isn't working for me. Went to the gym to do calisthenics. Ended the day with Chinese food my mommy brought home for dinner while watching WWE Raw. Gives me a chance to catch up on yesterday ...

Woke up yesterday at 2:00PM. My mommy called me to make sure I go to church. She was in Las Vegas for the weekend with family, but I stayed behind for Chris' Birthday party (PWG was just a bonus).

Went to church and then Red Robin afterward for dinner. Good news: Jazz was there. Bad news: She wasn't my waitress. Dammit.

The hostess who sat me down noticed I was wearing my Hermione shirt and ranted about how she's a big Harry Potter fan and how she has both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw uniforms. She was ... eh ... all right looking, I guess. My waitress was named Liz. I recognized her from this 1 time when she stood next to me at the mall's guest services table and asked me if it was still open. I said, "No." And she remarked, "Fuck." And I was like, "Ooh ... a Red Robin employee said, 'fuck.'" Liz was also ... eh ... all right looking, I guess. Not necessarily un-sober-fuckable, but I'd prefer to be drunk if I had to fuck her.

There was this new employee with glasses who was kind of cute, I guess, but not like Jazz, though. I caught the glasses-wearing chick and an employee dude staring at each other with bedroom eyes. Ha. I wonder what goes on in the backroom there. And I caught another employee dude say "shit."

Anyway, Liz can't make a Freckled Lemonade for shit. It kept coming out yellow because she kept making it backwards. You're supposed to pour the strawberries and syrup 1st and the lemonade last to turn it pink, not the other way around. I gave her a low tip because of that. But she offered to give me a Freckled Lemonade to take home. When I got home, I found out it was overloaded with strawberries and syrup and very pink, perhaps her way of saying sorry. Damn, I feel bad about giving her a low tip now.

But everytime Jazz passed by, I reached my hand deep down into my pants and touched myself (thank God for being covered by the table). If this was a porn film, Jazz would've been my waitress. We would've exchanged cheesy dialogue like that in porn movies and there would've been some corny reason for her to come back to my place because no one was home and ... bow chicka wow wow. But nooo. In this real life, I went home to fire up the porn and then extract the database ... BUT before I could do anything, my mommy came home 1 hour earlier than expected. Cockblock! But thank God I wasn't busting a #3 in the living room where I would've been caught with my pants down.