On Wednesday, I helped Chris move out of the little place in Alhambra that he and his wife were in, back to his old place in Orange. The whole situation sucked for Chris, cause he was living with his oldest friend, who in the last couple of weeks, became a big bitch and wouldn't man up to help his friend move out. That's where I come in. "Sure man, I'll help you move!" I said. Now, had I known beforehand just how much shit Chris has, would I have still offered to help him? Probably. But I might've had a cup of coffee in the morning, tho. Or a Red Bull. Now, some of you might think you have a lot of shit, or you might think you know people that have a lot of shit, but chances are you haven't met Chris yet. Chris has a LOT of shit. Though his shit is completely organized. It's impressive, actually. We made four trips from Alhambra to Anaheim and back (40 miles each way) in Chris' pickup from 8 am to 10pm. Chris brought the first load down by himself, picked me up, we unloaded, then headed back up. I'd like to give a shout out to the fine people at Carls Jr. and their delicious Breakfast Burger. Chris bought a pair, and we grubbed on our way back out to Alhambra. If I had a hangover, I wouldn't think twice about chowing down on one. Now like I said earlier, Chris has a lot of shit, but there are two things of which he has more than I'd expect any one man to own. Those are books and porn. Needless to say, I killed a precious few minutes each trip opening up boxes (and bozes) of Playboys and Penthouses and flipping through the contents. Also, I put a couple in the car to eliviate boredom. Yay, titties. And the books! He's got 55 boxes of books, all labeled with general contents, all between 20 and 50 pounds. For some reason, we decided to move 40 of these boxes during the hottest part of the Alhambra day, around 230-330 pm. 10 boxes fit in the bed, and we went four-high. Drove back down in rush hour, too. Perilous. One more trip besides that one, too. There was so much shit to do that day. I'll spare any more boring details, since nothing exciting happened after the books. I was fucking tired when I got home. Only to have to get up early to teach the next morning. C'est la vie.