“There are situations where you must ask yourself ‘What would Prince do?’”
“We have to consider that the man wrote 1999.”
“True, he’d probably say ‘Partyin’ like it’s nine-teen-ninety-nine? That’s so fucking eighties’”

I would hereby like to nominate Chito as “Worst… Wingman… Ever!”. This is a man that, while flying escort, decided to share that we were so close that “The first time I was over at his place here in Madrid, even though we hadn’t seen each other for a year, he ran straight to his computer and logged on to World of Warcraft… And I didn’t care!”.

No, we didn’t write down any phone numbers that night.

He also let out that my favorite movie is Ghostbusters. He didn’t let me up-play myself with some obscure foreign movies, he just exposed me for what I am.

Somebody whose favorite movie is Ghostbusters.

(Damn proud of it, too!)

To celebrate the various holidays, I went out a couple of times with people from the office, who insisted that hitting “a pub” after work was a tradition that we’ve sorely neglected. The first time, we went to a bar that had a newspaper clipping of a midget kissing Victoria Beckham stuck on the door. I’m staring intently at the clipping, trying to find out why the hell would that thing be on the door when I turn around and see said midget staring at me. Apparently, he’s offended because I didn’t know who he was. Of course, he’s the midget that kissed Victoria Beckham, and no, I have no idea why he expected me to know that. Anyway, we sit down, and many beers I had, and everybody somehow feels the obligation to get me drunk. Three hours later, I’m going home to bed, and they’re off to the company’s christmas party. Having to talk to your boss after 3 hours worth of whisky is some fun, I hear.

Another night, we hit another pub, and that’s when Chito decided to drop the bomb(s). He also failed to pick up any of the single (and increasingly desperate) hot chicks from my office, settling for hitting on the hot chick… Who has a boyfriend.

Heh.

In any case, holiday season is over, and for us in the least hard-working country in the World, that means no mandatory vacation days for another month or so. Waking up today at the usual time was a savage beating, and one that I’m sure will bring me tons of joy for the next few days until I get used to it again. This year I decided to Santa Claus myself a PSP, and I’m playing it so much it’s actually cutting into my World of Warcraft time. I haven’t decided whether that’s a good thing or not yet, but it’s been so long since I’ve owned a console I figure it’s worth it. Oh yeah, fuck Sony and all that. I don’t want to lose all my street cred just because I bought one of their products. Not until the first portable Final Fantasy game comes out, anyway.