Karma is with Law Firm Celebrities
My T! Magazine was a huge success. I sold exactly 1.73 million magazines less than Opera Winfrey.
Because of its huge success, I will be producing a second edition in the coming weeks. Major thanks to Peeved Michelle for writing the Metrosexual article. It was nice not having to write all the articles....I should hire some writers for T! Magazine. Please send in your applications to become a writer for T! Magazine and in exchange, I'll ask my Uncle to mow your lawn.
It's All About Me!
So I was informed that Yoko Ono, formerly of the Law Firm Clique and her roommate wanted to throw a joint birthday party for myself and Julie McCoy, original member of the Law Firm Clique.
First of all, I don't share my birthday with anyone. It's my birthday, and nobody else fucking matters. Even if you are from the Law Firm Clique, I don't share my goddamn day. Don't try and save money by throwing a 2 for 1 deal like a cheap sale at the dollar store.
They wanted to do this shing ding on Friday the 17th.
Whoa there friends who feel obligated to celebrate my birthday with 27 other people who's birthday also falls in the month of September, I have plans.
It's Friday night, always assume I have plans....there is a reason why my life is better than yours, and its because I don't sit my brown ass in front of the TV stuffing my face with extra cheesy dorritos watching highlights of the Olympics on Friday nights.
I have plans.
They finally broke me down like a Martha Stewart Scandal and I agreed to attend their party.
Just because my loyal friends are to cheap to give me my own day to celebrate my birthday doesn't mean I still won't get my way. I got everyone to agree to change the party to the next day, Saturday the 18th.
So though I'm feeling like I'm lying face down in a puddle of mud hearing Darth Vadar breathing noises in the distance as I just got ran over by Christopher Reeves because I have to share my birthday, I feel a little Kathy Lee Gifford-ish like I'm getting cheap labor from kids overseas knowing that they changed the date just for me.
Here is the actual Evite that went out on Monday.
Subject: Pajama Jamy Jam
Yes, you read it right!!! Well, it’s for Julie McCoy and TIMMY! for goodness sakes! Yoko Ono and Jelly Bean are hosting a pajama party for these boys! And yes, you MUST wear your pajamas or suffer the consequences and you know we aren’t going to go easy! And those of you who sleep in the NUDE, please be considerate and come with leaves at least.
We'll be in the “Red Light District” (our backyard with red lights) for some food, fun and a whole lot of drinking…..in your pajamas!!! We’ll provide the BBQ and dessert. Please bring your beverage of choice and whatever else you feel you’d like to share.
Please forward this evite to those people we missed and we'll see you this weekend!!!
Not only do I have to share my birthday with Julie McCoy, but I now have to read Yoko Ono mentioning Julie McCoy before me.
What the fuck?
Did you forget who I am?
I'm TIMMY!
Not just timmy...or Timmy.....or TIMMY.....but.....TIMMY!
I'm TIMMY! the goddamn Law Firm Celebrity!
So I'm really fuming over this whole scandal....thats right...a fucking scandal when I realize that I no longer can even make it on the 18th.
The rage that was erupting inside my 6'3 frame quickly evaporated as I realized that I no longer can even make the date that they changed just for me.
BWWWWWWWWWWWWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I responded to the Evite that I could not make it and that I was serious.
Then I received this email from Yoko Ono:
Subject: OMG!! You're not going to your party, we changed the date for you!
Black Magnum told me that you couldn't do it on Friday night so I changed it to Saturday.
BWWWWWWWWWWWWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
This is exactly what you get for not making me number one in your lives and giving me my own damn birthday party.
That's Karma for you.
Maybe next year you'll think of me and try to make me happy instead of trying to make everyone happy.
So if you're sitting there reading this and you are attending my party, I hope you enjoy it and let me know how it turns out cause I won't be there.
It's Still All About Me
Last week I flew into Santa Monica (LA area) for a day & a night. Even though I didn't find a Latin Club to check out it was a nice visit. I'll return and check the place out for some sight seeing as this trip was just for business and I missed out on sight seeing. The only other time I've been in the LA area, was to go to Disney Land and the only sight seeing I got to see then was a school of mentally challenged children. Though I love watching those goofy bastards, I want to see something other than a kid with a helmet running pigeon toe with snot running down his face trying to get Mickey Mouse's signature.
So my trip to LA was all business. It was nice though, I got to meet a lot of the people I deal with all the time. As I was going around meeting people I hear my name called out and about 5 people immediately crowd around me. They were asking me questions, gazing at me lovingly, and trying to reach out and touch a piece of my clothing.
I was a Law Firm Celebrity.
Now I know you're sitting there wishing you too could be a Law Firm Celebrity, but let me tell you that it isn't as glamorous as you might imagine.
You can't even walk to the copier without being recognized, yes, my gentle readers, it's that bad. You can't make a freakin copy without someone asking how you like LA. I even had Elena, the Janitor recognize me....I guess that isn't that unusual though cause she's also my Aunt.
I had to sign off on a couple of things while I was there. I glanced over the document I was supposed to sign and I saw my name in full print and signed my name above it. My signature looks something like a circle, and a couple of zig zag crosses.
Interesting signature you have there - I was told.
With the numerous autographs that is requested from a Law Firm Celebrity I have taken the liberty to alter my signature to something that resembles a stroke
patient trying to write out the alphabet. It doesn't matter though, as my name always appears directly underneath my signature in perfect blocked print.
This particular individual in which I now believe was one of the goofy bastards I saw at Disney Land 4 years ago advises me that no one would ever be able to recognize and read my signature.
Looking at my printed name directly underneath my signature I thought that this person would have better served the world if their parents had elected to abort them.
After my long day of battling Law Firm Celebrity Groupies and running from Law Firm Paparazzi's, I went to dinner with the Senior Partner (my boss), another Partner, and the Firm's CFO.
Granted, I was the lowest on the totem pole of -let-me-screw-you-out-of-your-money-Law Firm operations, I was still the Law Firm Celebrity and the most popular at the table.
The restaurant was some sort of Italian place that I've never heard of but it was within walking distance of our Hotel. I knew that I would never be able to afford to eat at a place like this as soon as I noticed the waiters weren't wearing bullet proof vests. I wasn't paying for anything, that wasn't the issue, the issue was that I don't think they serve minorities. The minorities do the serving and the cooking in places like this.
I did feel a little out of place when the host requested to see my green card.
Everyone at the table, the two partners & the Chief Financial Officer ordered a seafood entree and an appetizer. The waiter looked at me and I ordered the only thing I recognized on the menu.
A $35 dollar plate of meatloaf and a coke.
I felt everyone at the table roll their eyes at me as they sipped on their wine. Which I would feel comfortable putting money on that the wine didn't come from a box.
My boss then laughs and says, "The only place in town where you can order a $35 plate of meatloaf."
I thought about lunging across the table and poking him in the eyeball with my straw from my coke but I didn't as I knew he had to fly my happy Mexican ass back to Northern California the next morning. And I wanted him to have two good eyes as we flew in his twin propeller Ritchie Valens look alike plane.
I can order whatever the hell I want because I'm a Law Firm Celebrity....
....And Karma's on my side.
Because of its huge success, I will be producing a second edition in the coming weeks. Major thanks to Peeved Michelle for writing the Metrosexual article. It was nice not having to write all the articles....I should hire some writers for T! Magazine. Please send in your applications to become a writer for T! Magazine and in exchange, I'll ask my Uncle to mow your lawn.
It's All About Me!
So I was informed that Yoko Ono, formerly of the Law Firm Clique and her roommate wanted to throw a joint birthday party for myself and Julie McCoy, original member of the Law Firm Clique.
First of all, I don't share my birthday with anyone. It's my birthday, and nobody else fucking matters. Even if you are from the Law Firm Clique, I don't share my goddamn day. Don't try and save money by throwing a 2 for 1 deal like a cheap sale at the dollar store.
They wanted to do this shing ding on Friday the 17th.
Whoa there friends who feel obligated to celebrate my birthday with 27 other people who's birthday also falls in the month of September, I have plans.
It's Friday night, always assume I have plans....there is a reason why my life is better than yours, and its because I don't sit my brown ass in front of the TV stuffing my face with extra cheesy dorritos watching highlights of the Olympics on Friday nights.
I have plans.
They finally broke me down like a Martha Stewart Scandal and I agreed to attend their party.
Just because my loyal friends are to cheap to give me my own day to celebrate my birthday doesn't mean I still won't get my way. I got everyone to agree to change the party to the next day, Saturday the 18th.
So though I'm feeling like I'm lying face down in a puddle of mud hearing Darth Vadar breathing noises in the distance as I just got ran over by Christopher Reeves because I have to share my birthday, I feel a little Kathy Lee Gifford-ish like I'm getting cheap labor from kids overseas knowing that they changed the date just for me.
Here is the actual Evite that went out on Monday.
Subject: Pajama Jamy Jam
Yes, you read it right!!! Well, it’s for Julie McCoy and TIMMY! for goodness sakes! Yoko Ono and Jelly Bean are hosting a pajama party for these boys! And yes, you MUST wear your pajamas or suffer the consequences and you know we aren’t going to go easy! And those of you who sleep in the NUDE, please be considerate and come with leaves at least.
We'll be in the “Red Light District” (our backyard with red lights) for some food, fun and a whole lot of drinking…..in your pajamas!!! We’ll provide the BBQ and dessert. Please bring your beverage of choice and whatever else you feel you’d like to share.
Please forward this evite to those people we missed and we'll see you this weekend!!!
Not only do I have to share my birthday with Julie McCoy, but I now have to read Yoko Ono mentioning Julie McCoy before me.
What the fuck?
Did you forget who I am?
I'm TIMMY!
Not just timmy...or Timmy.....or TIMMY.....but.....TIMMY!
I'm TIMMY! the goddamn Law Firm Celebrity!
So I'm really fuming over this whole scandal....thats right...a fucking scandal when I realize that I no longer can even make it on the 18th.
The rage that was erupting inside my 6'3 frame quickly evaporated as I realized that I no longer can even make the date that they changed just for me.
BWWWWWWWWWWWWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I responded to the Evite that I could not make it and that I was serious.
Then I received this email from Yoko Ono:
Subject: OMG!! You're not going to your party, we changed the date for you!
Black Magnum told me that you couldn't do it on Friday night so I changed it to Saturday.
BWWWWWWWWWWWWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
This is exactly what you get for not making me number one in your lives and giving me my own damn birthday party.
That's Karma for you.
Maybe next year you'll think of me and try to make me happy instead of trying to make everyone happy.
So if you're sitting there reading this and you are attending my party, I hope you enjoy it and let me know how it turns out cause I won't be there.
It's Still All About Me
Last week I flew into Santa Monica (LA area) for a day & a night. Even though I didn't find a Latin Club to check out it was a nice visit. I'll return and check the place out for some sight seeing as this trip was just for business and I missed out on sight seeing. The only other time I've been in the LA area, was to go to Disney Land and the only sight seeing I got to see then was a school of mentally challenged children. Though I love watching those goofy bastards, I want to see something other than a kid with a helmet running pigeon toe with snot running down his face trying to get Mickey Mouse's signature.
So my trip to LA was all business. It was nice though, I got to meet a lot of the people I deal with all the time. As I was going around meeting people I hear my name called out and about 5 people immediately crowd around me. They were asking me questions, gazing at me lovingly, and trying to reach out and touch a piece of my clothing.
I was a Law Firm Celebrity.
Now I know you're sitting there wishing you too could be a Law Firm Celebrity, but let me tell you that it isn't as glamorous as you might imagine.
You can't even walk to the copier without being recognized, yes, my gentle readers, it's that bad. You can't make a freakin copy without someone asking how you like LA. I even had Elena, the Janitor recognize me....I guess that isn't that unusual though cause she's also my Aunt.
I had to sign off on a couple of things while I was there. I glanced over the document I was supposed to sign and I saw my name in full print and signed my name above it. My signature looks something like a circle, and a couple of zig zag crosses.
Interesting signature you have there - I was told.
With the numerous autographs that is requested from a Law Firm Celebrity I have taken the liberty to alter my signature to something that resembles a stroke
patient trying to write out the alphabet. It doesn't matter though, as my name always appears directly underneath my signature in perfect blocked print.
This particular individual in which I now believe was one of the goofy bastards I saw at Disney Land 4 years ago advises me that no one would ever be able to recognize and read my signature.
Looking at my printed name directly underneath my signature I thought that this person would have better served the world if their parents had elected to abort them.
After my long day of battling Law Firm Celebrity Groupies and running from Law Firm Paparazzi's, I went to dinner with the Senior Partner (my boss), another Partner, and the Firm's CFO.
Granted, I was the lowest on the totem pole of -let-me-screw-you-out-of-your-money-Law Firm operations, I was still the Law Firm Celebrity and the most popular at the table.
The restaurant was some sort of Italian place that I've never heard of but it was within walking distance of our Hotel. I knew that I would never be able to afford to eat at a place like this as soon as I noticed the waiters weren't wearing bullet proof vests. I wasn't paying for anything, that wasn't the issue, the issue was that I don't think they serve minorities. The minorities do the serving and the cooking in places like this.
I did feel a little out of place when the host requested to see my green card.
Everyone at the table, the two partners & the Chief Financial Officer ordered a seafood entree and an appetizer. The waiter looked at me and I ordered the only thing I recognized on the menu.
A $35 dollar plate of meatloaf and a coke.
I felt everyone at the table roll their eyes at me as they sipped on their wine. Which I would feel comfortable putting money on that the wine didn't come from a box.
My boss then laughs and says, "The only place in town where you can order a $35 plate of meatloaf."
I thought about lunging across the table and poking him in the eyeball with my straw from my coke but I didn't as I knew he had to fly my happy Mexican ass back to Northern California the next morning. And I wanted him to have two good eyes as we flew in his twin propeller Ritchie Valens look alike plane.
I can order whatever the hell I want because I'm a Law Firm Celebrity....
....And Karma's on my side.
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