3-20-97 Th 10:45 PM
"His alcoholism contributed to the disintegration of his marriage, and he and his wife separated in 1955. But they never divorced, and she remained his close friend and colleague, maintaining her own house near his in East Hampton until her death from cancer in 1989.
After the separation, De Koonig, who was always attractive to women, moved in with commercial artist Joan Ward. She bore his only child, Lisa, when De Koonig was 52. He went on to other liasons, but both Lisa and her mother remained close to the artist, later maintaining separate homes near his. They were also friendly to Elaine."
As it should be. Well, we got the car with relatively little hassle finally today. I had to stay after school late a while to talk to Emmanual Fernandez' mom about his lack of effort. When I got home, GIP was here. He got off work early to help me. He and John and I went to Wilshire Division and they buzzed us into the Detective's Office. The whole place seemed designed for bloody holdouts against armed rebellion. I felt my arm being twisted. Dealin' in pain. The Detective had the right answers.
I myself stated a vision. Now I'm trippin' on the effectiveness of well-coordinated radio communication. How did they identify him as one to do dirty work? Fearlessness from utter fear.
Here come the blessmysouls.
Oh, you get howlin' in the city it finds its escapes
I'd like to go back to that IL Literature book store and get the book of the stick man even though I haven't even started the last two books I got there.
Where was I? I asked Richard and Jose if they had any guns. Neither did. There's another chopper out there. Time to close the window. Got no shirt on.
How would you get eyes so wide? It sounds like someone skipping rope outside.
Maybe I should always call him Mr. Pugh, instead of Dennis, since he hired me, and he always wears a tie and walks around stilted and aimlessly, but I don't want to say 'Pugh' because that's the sound we make when something smells bad.
It's already elven thirty. I got through most of both newspapers, but I haven't read any of the Fante yet today. I like what I read about Willem De Koonig, the artist of whom I had never heard previous to reading his obituary today.
I haven't typed the one page yet, but I've typed fifteen minutes and trodmill a half hour. School went all right. I was a little looser I think tonight because I got my truck back. Doris has a gold tooth. I'm falling asleep at my desk. Maybe I better just enter blab mode so I can finish this before tomorrow. I think I'll just go to bed. I heard a car idling in the street outside and got suspicious and went to the window. It was only the Domino's guy delivering next door. Sounds like a good drug story. Just a few more lines. Amparo and Doris walked out holding each other around the waist. What would I say to Cathy Tomorrow?
"His alcoholism contributed to the disintegration of his marriage, and he and his wife separated in 1955. But they never divorced, and she remained his close friend and colleague, maintaining her own house near his in East Hampton until her death from cancer in 1989.
After the separation, De Koonig, who was always attractive to women, moved in with commercial artist Joan Ward. She bore his only child, Lisa, when De Koonig was 52. He went on to other liasons, but both Lisa and her mother remained close to the artist, later maintaining separate homes near his. They were also friendly to Elaine."
As it should be. Well, we got the car with relatively little hassle finally today. I had to stay after school late a while to talk to Emmanual Fernandez' mom about his lack of effort. When I got home, GIP was here. He got off work early to help me. He and John and I went to Wilshire Division and they buzzed us into the Detective's Office. The whole place seemed designed for bloody holdouts against armed rebellion. I felt my arm being twisted. Dealin' in pain. The Detective had the right answers.
I myself stated a vision. Now I'm trippin' on the effectiveness of well-coordinated radio communication. How did they identify him as one to do dirty work? Fearlessness from utter fear.
Here come the blessmysouls.
Oh, you get howlin' in the city it finds its escapes
I'd like to go back to that IL Literature book store and get the book of the stick man even though I haven't even started the last two books I got there.
Where was I? I asked Richard and Jose if they had any guns. Neither did. There's another chopper out there. Time to close the window. Got no shirt on.
How would you get eyes so wide? It sounds like someone skipping rope outside.
Maybe I should always call him Mr. Pugh, instead of Dennis, since he hired me, and he always wears a tie and walks around stilted and aimlessly, but I don't want to say 'Pugh' because that's the sound we make when something smells bad.
It's already elven thirty. I got through most of both newspapers, but I haven't read any of the Fante yet today. I like what I read about Willem De Koonig, the artist of whom I had never heard previous to reading his obituary today.
I haven't typed the one page yet, but I've typed fifteen minutes and trodmill a half hour. School went all right. I was a little looser I think tonight because I got my truck back. Doris has a gold tooth. I'm falling asleep at my desk. Maybe I better just enter blab mode so I can finish this before tomorrow. I think I'll just go to bed. I heard a car idling in the street outside and got suspicious and went to the window. It was only the Domino's guy delivering next door. Sounds like a good drug story. Just a few more lines. Amparo and Doris walked out holding each other around the waist. What would I say to Cathy Tomorrow?
posted by johnz at 9:43 AM
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