what do you have against me making money?

This is the best shit I've ever seen. Ladies, we need a big screen or a projector. I bet we could haul one up on to the roof.

More wine, too. And popcorn. We need popcorn for this.

I'm a little hazy on the details from the last week or so, and Alec is being unnaturally quiet. Hopefully, you guys can help me out.

Does anyone know:
a) Who is 'Crystal or maybe Candy', why do I have her number, and does anyone know what her name actually is?
b) Where did the plastic flamingos come from?
c) Why is there a bruise on my ass?
d) Did I at some point drop my phone in juice, because it smells like limes?

Thanks in advance for what I'm sure will be exciting answers.

So, hopefully by now you're all settled into your new digs. They may not be top of the line, but they're better than a jail cell, right?

If anyone needs anything, I'm the one you can talk to. That doesn't mean I'm your errand girl, though, so don't get any crazy ideas.

Also, enjoy the use of the new filter. They broke through the old CORE ones, so don't use those. Unless, you know, you want to go back to prison. In which case, way to waste our time.

Welcome to the Resistance, boys and girls.

It's hot enough to melt the skin off my bones, and what happens? The AC in my apartment dies. Which, seriously, is just icing on the fucking cake, because god forbid I have a landlord that actually fixes shit.

All I have to say is: Fuck Las Vegas summers.

The week long business conference which has been the bane of my existence for the last six days, ends tomorrow. They are all going home! I will no longer have to serve adult beverages to sloshed men in expensive suites.

Well, I will, but there won't be so many of them, and they won't travel in large packs.

After a week of general incompetence, I've been released from custody. Apparently, they didn't actually have anything that they could hold me on.

So. What'd I miss?

God bless spring break. Tuesday night @ clubs has never looked so good.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need another drink!

No more training with the civilians for me. I was told, in no uncertain terms, never to go back again. Oh well. The guy that ran that place was a dickwad, anyway.

( Private to Sam )

( Private to Betty )

I had a high roller try to PAY ME FOR A BLOWJOB.

Some days, I hate my job.

I mean, I may not have the most moral fiber, but I do have standards. Not even very high standards, but I'm not a damn prostitute.

Fuck that.

It's always shocking to get a voice mail from the local lock up, even when you know your brother isn't always the model citizen.

Leon, next time, cut to the chase. Don't rattle on about chickens. I zone out, so I'm not paying attention when you get to the part about how you're in jail.

I nearly got in a fist fight with a sixty-year-old woman. Want to know why? Because she wanted the same ham that I was reaching for. It was like watching Grandma morph in to the Hulk. One second, she's a sweet old lady. The next, she's calling me a shameless hussy and telling me to find my own Christmas ham, because she saw that one first. I don't know who was more shocked, me or Alec. But we let her take the damn thing before her heart gave out.

I'm not setting foot anywhere near a retail business until this insanity is over.

I'm pretty new to this whole reincarnate business, but I gotta ask: do reincarnates die, like, a lot? Cause I'm not too keen on someone trying to murder me in my sleep.

So. Apparently I've been paired up with some dude named Walt for the Dare Wars.

Come on up, Walt. Let's get to know each other before we start flashing people.

I just got caught in line at the store between a fat lady with no concept of personal space and a guy on the phone who was talking VERY LOUDLY about how sexually frustrating his last marriage was. So I was all crowded from behind by a mouth-breather who smelled like cheap beer and Cheetos, and couldn't escape because the guy in front of me was to busy going on and on about how it was his wife's fault he couldn't get it up to notice that the line was moving.

The fact that I walked out of there without snapping any necks just proves that I have superior self control.

Who'd have thought that anyone could make a 250 pound self defense instructor cry?

What a baby. I didn't hit him that hard the first time. Instinct (and by instinct, I mean Alec) just kind of took over while we were going through the motions. The rest of the class probably thought I was on some sort of wicked LSD trip or something. Even I was a little shocked when it was all said and done and the guy was on the other side of the mat with tears in his eyes. I think I got a crotch shot in there somewhere. My bad, I know that's fighting dirty.

Long story short, prooooobably not going back to that particular class ever again...

Hey there, fellow reincarnates. I figure now that I'm not totally freaking out anymore, it's time to introduce myself.

I'm Logan Sullivan. You may have already met my brother, since he's been wandering around her for a couple years. So, what else am I supposed to say? I guess I should tell you about my reincarnate. If you've heard of the show Dark Angel (yep, same as my brother's), then you probably know Alec McDowell. Or X5-494, if you want to get technical, but whatever. He prefers Alec, so we'll go with that.

Go ahead and introduce yourselves. I've got a couple of hours to kill before I have to go to work.

( I fought the law, and the law won. )