I Doubt There Are Carwashes Anywhere Else in the World
May 8, 1996
I didn't get far with this yesterday. What was the big distraction? Shit. I have to get a hold of Bob Kobata at Bret Harte High tomorrow. It's imperative. I need to call the Red Cross about a CPR class. I'm not going to have any breathing room until after the 16th. The bullshit is all stacked up.
I'll never again go to Emilio's.
I didin't buy any weed last month. Some kind of new record. The principal said in my evaluation that I had good leadership skills. I suppose that may be true more often than not, but definitely not always.
I've got to go to my brother's now to wait until our softball game starts tonight. I'm in Pacoima; he's in Reseda; the game's in Sherman Oaks, I think, and there's no use going home to LA first. Right now I'm sitting on the teacher's lounge toilet, visualizing basehits. It's time to go right now, but I ought to finish this exercise. The horns of dilemma. There'll be an ESPN double header on the tube in that polluted bacherlor pad Mike calls home. Maybe we can hit the Reseda Room for a beer and pool.
On the way out to the parking lot, Marti Gonza headed me off and said she wanted me to do a John Wayne imitation at Arlene (the obese old elf with the green gunk flowing from her eyes) Duke's retirement. Cha. ~~~~Now I'm at Denny's. I ordered a Charleston Chicken dinner for $4.99. It includes fries and vegetable fo the day, and I got an iced tea. This Denny's is on the corner of Saticoy and Reseda. Across the street, next to a car wash, smoke pours from a place called the BBQ shack. This is America.
Why do I doubt there are carwashes in Europe or Russia or anywhere else in the world other than the good old old U. S. of A.?
I'm depressed again. I'm not sure why. I'm not producing. Inundation of bullshit. Maybe I'll have dessert. Pie and a shake. How would that make me feel?
Let's call this the end for now. Don't despair, Jim. I'm a comin'.
I didn't get far with this yesterday. What was the big distraction? Shit. I have to get a hold of Bob Kobata at Bret Harte High tomorrow. It's imperative. I need to call the Red Cross about a CPR class. I'm not going to have any breathing room until after the 16th. The bullshit is all stacked up.
I'll never again go to Emilio's.
I didin't buy any weed last month. Some kind of new record. The principal said in my evaluation that I had good leadership skills. I suppose that may be true more often than not, but definitely not always.
I've got to go to my brother's now to wait until our softball game starts tonight. I'm in Pacoima; he's in Reseda; the game's in Sherman Oaks, I think, and there's no use going home to LA first. Right now I'm sitting on the teacher's lounge toilet, visualizing basehits. It's time to go right now, but I ought to finish this exercise. The horns of dilemma. There'll be an ESPN double header on the tube in that polluted bacherlor pad Mike calls home. Maybe we can hit the Reseda Room for a beer and pool.
On the way out to the parking lot, Marti Gonza headed me off and said she wanted me to do a John Wayne imitation at Arlene (the obese old elf with the green gunk flowing from her eyes) Duke's retirement. Cha. ~~~~Now I'm at Denny's. I ordered a Charleston Chicken dinner for $4.99. It includes fries and vegetable fo the day, and I got an iced tea. This Denny's is on the corner of Saticoy and Reseda. Across the street, next to a car wash, smoke pours from a place called the BBQ shack. This is America.
Why do I doubt there are carwashes in Europe or Russia or anywhere else in the world other than the good old old U. S. of A.?
I'm depressed again. I'm not sure why. I'm not producing. Inundation of bullshit. Maybe I'll have dessert. Pie and a shake. How would that make me feel?
Let's call this the end for now. Don't despair, Jim. I'm a comin'.
posted by johnz at 3:09 PM
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