I'm detoxing after a long period of self-abuse, and as part of my court-mandated recovery plan I'm going to tell you all about it. Enjoy.

I was in San Luis Obispo for the New Year, and I couldn't have made a better choice. For such a small town, SLO has plenty of hedonism. I needed a few good parties; I've been more of a loner than I'd realized. I had a few drinks with friends (those of you reading between the lines know what that really means), met a beautiful woman, and relaxed for a week. I'm feeling much better now.

Even better, the same beautiful woman visited me this weekend. I'll try to keep my giddiness to myself.

Monday night, Jeff and Travis took me to 24-Hour Fitness for a guest workout. I just wanted to sweat a little, stretch, and work on my abs. Instead, I feel like I've barely escaped from the Used Car Lot From Hell.

You'd think using a guest pass would be simple. Something like "Hi, I'm with him." Not so! As soon as it's clear that I'm not a regular PAYING member, the treacherous receptionist waves over the Smiling Man.

Smiley has a warm handshake and smooth voice. He's mid-twenties, like me, and sports a not-too-flashy, not-too-shabby look. He asks a few questions - "What do you want out of a gym?", "How often do you plan to work out?", etc. He never asked if I wanted to speak to him about any of this. It doesn't matter what I say to him. Smiley has a "plan that's perfect for me", workout charts, the whole deal. All for the low, low cost of something-99 a month.

Meanwhile, the gym has one attendant for 100 people, and no one to explain to me why the elliptical machine doesn't work. I'm sure glad they're on top of those sales, though!

I just finished my latest round of ebay-fueled madness. The pride and joy of my childhood - my precious collection of Nintendo games - has flown off into the void. Which is what my bank account no longer feels like, thank God.

One nice thing about ebay: 90% of people you deal with on ebay are decent folk. They pay you right away, are quick to respond to email, and are generally a pleasure to deal with.

And then there are the fuckos. They TYPE IN ALL CAPS and have aol.com email addresses. They take a week to reply to a damn email. They haggle over the price after the auction has closed. They need you to explain the whole ebay process to them, and the PayPal process, and how to put a damn stamp on an envelope. They email you three weeks after the auction has ended with no payment and give you a sob story about their Mom's horrible illness and how their dog got shot and how you should be patient.

Screw them all. Enjoy your negative feedback and account suspension, fuckos! Oh, I'm sorry, did your failure to pay me result in your ebay account being cancelled? What did you think would happen? Guess what? Some of you fuckos even live in San Francisco, and ebay gave me your billing address! Didn't know about that, did you? Bring it on! You want some of this? Huh?! Who wants some?!

Life was much simpler when I just left stuff I didn't want on the corner for the homeless. Sure, I might see my games being sold for a quarter on a blanket on Market Street, but at least I'd have my sanity. Now I know how the crazy guy on Muni got that way - he was once an ebay seller, too.

Or maybe it was the crack.