Monday December 9
I'm getting buzzed or maybe even drunk. I don't know yet, but I've got a couple of hours to kill still. I came up to Monty's to watch the rain fall on the village. It's not night yet, but the sun is long gone...Keep returning to that woman yesterday...For the first time in my life I wish I had an umbrella. The kids watched "Aladdin" today. All these love stories are working on me. It just occurred to me to put Jim in the riot on Mariachi's lawn...give him hero status...have the fog and the word of God pour from his mouth. Fuck all these cigar dorks. I've got to get the fuck out of here because I can't stand this fucker's pomposity. I could walk to Madison's now or that hotel up street with the newspaper in my head. "Drummer Boy" is on. My dad's favorite Xmas song. I have some stories to read for Thursday, and the bad book exercise, and the crime response paragraph. I ought to go over again the stories for tonight. I feel so emotional and teary lately. What is this? They showed a documentary on the Learning Channel about the 737 that crashed into the frozen Potomac. Helicopters tried to ferry victims too cold to hold on to the life preservers. I sucked tears back into my ducts.
I walked out down the street to the Thrifty one of Monty's patrons directed me to, fat raindrops plopped me wet in a few steps. Now, I'm at Madison's toasting the first umbrella I've ever owned with the first glass of Chivas I've ever drunk, as far as I know. I told the other patron in here and the barmaid that I'd just driven out from the Valley on the four o five, and I thought I was in that James Bond car from "The Spy Who Loved Me" that goes underwater. I've started Saroyan's Human Comedy. Simple and Sweet. Like Steinbeck, but simple and sweet.
He said, "Honeybomb, D'ya mind if I call you honeybomb? It's what I called my love who no longer does. I don't miss her, but I'm lonely. Could I call you honeybomb at no obligation to you?" ---Ya got any coffee? How 'bout a kahluer and coffee. I has sweet corn and cream of chicken soup and garlic parmesan pasta and am eating the cornbread and apple butter, even though it all clashes. I can feel the pneumonia settling in. If I'd brought my dope, I'd've smoked it.
I'm getting buzzed or maybe even drunk. I don't know yet, but I've got a couple of hours to kill still. I came up to Monty's to watch the rain fall on the village. It's not night yet, but the sun is long gone...Keep returning to that woman yesterday...For the first time in my life I wish I had an umbrella. The kids watched "Aladdin" today. All these love stories are working on me. It just occurred to me to put Jim in the riot on Mariachi's lawn...give him hero status...have the fog and the word of God pour from his mouth. Fuck all these cigar dorks. I've got to get the fuck out of here because I can't stand this fucker's pomposity. I could walk to Madison's now or that hotel up street with the newspaper in my head. "Drummer Boy" is on. My dad's favorite Xmas song. I have some stories to read for Thursday, and the bad book exercise, and the crime response paragraph. I ought to go over again the stories for tonight. I feel so emotional and teary lately. What is this? They showed a documentary on the Learning Channel about the 737 that crashed into the frozen Potomac. Helicopters tried to ferry victims too cold to hold on to the life preservers. I sucked tears back into my ducts.
I walked out down the street to the Thrifty one of Monty's patrons directed me to, fat raindrops plopped me wet in a few steps. Now, I'm at Madison's toasting the first umbrella I've ever owned with the first glass of Chivas I've ever drunk, as far as I know. I told the other patron in here and the barmaid that I'd just driven out from the Valley on the four o five, and I thought I was in that James Bond car from "The Spy Who Loved Me" that goes underwater. I've started Saroyan's Human Comedy. Simple and Sweet. Like Steinbeck, but simple and sweet.
He said, "Honeybomb, D'ya mind if I call you honeybomb? It's what I called my love who no longer does. I don't miss her, but I'm lonely. Could I call you honeybomb at no obligation to you?" ---Ya got any coffee? How 'bout a kahluer and coffee. I has sweet corn and cream of chicken soup and garlic parmesan pasta and am eating the cornbread and apple butter, even though it all clashes. I can feel the pneumonia settling in. If I'd brought my dope, I'd've smoked it.
posted by johnz at 6:47 PM
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