3-6 Th
A cricket is stuggling weakly against the sides of the tub; he seems to be on his last legs, though shapely they may still be.
I'm crapping. It's night. One-eyed, one-handed, gimp-legged, gimp-brained Thing 2 has just arrived from Union Station. We got a full house.
Today's workshop was in Hacienda Heights. Phyllis and Sara were late picking me up, but I didn't read much of the paper because I thought I was too tired to get up earlier than I did, even though I wasn't. GIP is on his way here. He wants to go to the titty bar Wild Goose. I said Maybe.
Class went well tonight. I had energy. The class was content and laughing. They're starting to ask questions. What else? Now I'm pretty tired. Bayless drove us in Gramma's convertible to Molly Malone's. I spent twenty-five on Jameson's and Amstel. The singer was gorgeous and knew it. It was driving me nuts. I regret going. I should have stayed home and saved my money and read and slept. Who are the girls? Remember the one-inch eye frame. Get from the ATM to the girl's house. Well-to-do. She lives with her father.
I would like to call Sanyo Masonic. Pablo says it's over between them. I've been imagining conversations. "I know this is weird. We weren't exactly friends as much as acquaintances, but I liked you the moment I met you, and it's a shame to think I'll never see you anymore now that Pablo isn't." Is that sleazy? What else? Thing's playing the new U2 album. The Kings are hosting the Rangers and making them feel right at home by giving up five goals. We did some tongue twisters in class tonight. I still have to type and do some e-mail. Call that accountant. Get the VIN number off the Chrysler. What about that Methodology class Saturday? Will I enroll at UCLA? U. of Phoenix? What else? I'll stop by the pot shop tomorrow. It will have been two weeks. Steph Gracias is going to pick me and take me out to Pasadena tomorrow. Ug What else? I napped on the couch under the window this afternoon. I read some more Neruda. I'll e-mail Linda soon. Que mas? Just a few more lines. I had a fat-ass Monte Christo at Bennigan's for lunch.
A cricket is stuggling weakly against the sides of the tub; he seems to be on his last legs, though shapely they may still be.
I'm crapping. It's night. One-eyed, one-handed, gimp-legged, gimp-brained Thing 2 has just arrived from Union Station. We got a full house.
Today's workshop was in Hacienda Heights. Phyllis and Sara were late picking me up, but I didn't read much of the paper because I thought I was too tired to get up earlier than I did, even though I wasn't. GIP is on his way here. He wants to go to the titty bar Wild Goose. I said Maybe.
Class went well tonight. I had energy. The class was content and laughing. They're starting to ask questions. What else? Now I'm pretty tired. Bayless drove us in Gramma's convertible to Molly Malone's. I spent twenty-five on Jameson's and Amstel. The singer was gorgeous and knew it. It was driving me nuts. I regret going. I should have stayed home and saved my money and read and slept. Who are the girls? Remember the one-inch eye frame. Get from the ATM to the girl's house. Well-to-do. She lives with her father.
I would like to call Sanyo Masonic. Pablo says it's over between them. I've been imagining conversations. "I know this is weird. We weren't exactly friends as much as acquaintances, but I liked you the moment I met you, and it's a shame to think I'll never see you anymore now that Pablo isn't." Is that sleazy? What else? Thing's playing the new U2 album. The Kings are hosting the Rangers and making them feel right at home by giving up five goals. We did some tongue twisters in class tonight. I still have to type and do some e-mail. Call that accountant. Get the VIN number off the Chrysler. What about that Methodology class Saturday? Will I enroll at UCLA? U. of Phoenix? What else? I'll stop by the pot shop tomorrow. It will have been two weeks. Steph Gracias is going to pick me and take me out to Pasadena tomorrow. Ug What else? I napped on the couch under the window this afternoon. I read some more Neruda. I'll e-mail Linda soon. Que mas? Just a few more lines. I had a fat-ass Monte Christo at Bennigan's for lunch.
posted by johnz at 5:50 PM
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