A Time Travel Hard-On
Thursday November twenty-first
On the shitter in Tony Roma's at City Walk. Sneaked a wee puff after watching the movie "Space Jam" with Michael Jordan and Bugs Bunny. I ate a Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese from McDonald's not two days after swearing I wouldn't eat any more burgers the rest of the year. I was supposed to have written a story where one character convinces another to commit a crime. I want to show Adam and Jim trying to get alcohol.
Now I'm at Upstart Crow at a wooden table, varnished pine I think. Jazzy music plays. Women laugh. I wonder if I look like one of those dorks who goes into coffee houses and writes or otherwise intellectualizes. I could wait up at class and write the pages where Jim and Adam try to get beer. Now I need to know exactly how old they are. Jim discovers his wallet was in the car. Adam's wallet is at home so as not to spend money.
A girl with a red apron tugs and curls a srtand of black hair around her finger. A red-head kneels to extract a trinket from a box labeled POOH ORNAMENTS. She's pretty with freckles and bright red lipstick to go with that frizzed red hair. I put the pencil led in behind my thumbnail and dig out a little dirt.
What will the first sentence be? Who's driving? Jim has no car. Adam wants Jim to drive. They argue. Adam tells Jim to drive his car. What does Jim do about his clothes? Nothing? Do we need to describe the bathroom in that house?
It's raining. Has been all day. I considered making it a double feature, but I wouldn't be writing right now if I had. I should check with Pam to make sure I'm getting paid for both coordinatorships since I'm doing all the work. I'll tell her if she guarantees it, I'll get a modem and hook up the computer to the net. I haven't seen Fay nor Teresa at school the last couple days. I showed "Toy Story" to my class today. I wonder if this bookstore has The Adventures of Augie March. Two women speak a foreign language I don't recognize. Wait. It's French. All of the sudden the whole place is speaking French. I'm a Parisian ex-pat. Marilyn Monroe gives me a fifty-year-old time travel hard-on from beyond the grave, which I think was all she ever wanted out of life, to be the immortal desire of all men. I'd like to be the modern male equivalent, the immortal desire of all women. It will probably be very quiet in class. I'll probably be able to write undisturbed for one hour and a half. Shall I get some coffe? Isn't it smart I didn't sit drinking alcohol today?! Would caffeine distract me from the story? Not much. Can I afford it? Tomorrow I may have to tell Jeff I can't make it. I'll have to put on a good face at Leo Politi tomorrow.
On the shitter in Tony Roma's at City Walk. Sneaked a wee puff after watching the movie "Space Jam" with Michael Jordan and Bugs Bunny. I ate a Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese from McDonald's not two days after swearing I wouldn't eat any more burgers the rest of the year. I was supposed to have written a story where one character convinces another to commit a crime. I want to show Adam and Jim trying to get alcohol.
Now I'm at Upstart Crow at a wooden table, varnished pine I think. Jazzy music plays. Women laugh. I wonder if I look like one of those dorks who goes into coffee houses and writes or otherwise intellectualizes. I could wait up at class and write the pages where Jim and Adam try to get beer. Now I need to know exactly how old they are. Jim discovers his wallet was in the car. Adam's wallet is at home so as not to spend money.
A girl with a red apron tugs and curls a srtand of black hair around her finger. A red-head kneels to extract a trinket from a box labeled POOH ORNAMENTS. She's pretty with freckles and bright red lipstick to go with that frizzed red hair. I put the pencil led in behind my thumbnail and dig out a little dirt.
What will the first sentence be? Who's driving? Jim has no car. Adam wants Jim to drive. They argue. Adam tells Jim to drive his car. What does Jim do about his clothes? Nothing? Do we need to describe the bathroom in that house?
It's raining. Has been all day. I considered making it a double feature, but I wouldn't be writing right now if I had. I should check with Pam to make sure I'm getting paid for both coordinatorships since I'm doing all the work. I'll tell her if she guarantees it, I'll get a modem and hook up the computer to the net. I haven't seen Fay nor Teresa at school the last couple days. I showed "Toy Story" to my class today. I wonder if this bookstore has The Adventures of Augie March. Two women speak a foreign language I don't recognize. Wait. It's French. All of the sudden the whole place is speaking French. I'm a Parisian ex-pat. Marilyn Monroe gives me a fifty-year-old time travel hard-on from beyond the grave, which I think was all she ever wanted out of life, to be the immortal desire of all men. I'd like to be the modern male equivalent, the immortal desire of all women. It will probably be very quiet in class. I'll probably be able to write undisturbed for one hour and a half. Shall I get some coffe? Isn't it smart I didn't sit drinking alcohol today?! Would caffeine distract me from the story? Not much. Can I afford it? Tomorrow I may have to tell Jeff I can't make it. I'll have to put on a good face at Leo Politi tomorrow.
posted by johnz at 8:46 PM
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