Hollywood Bullshit Kiss
June 14 Flag Day 5:20 Saturday
West on the 10 freeway toward Santa Monica and Hollywood hipster luau. My horoscope said I would have sex appeal and be clicking mentally, and people would say I should be a comedian. I'm hoping I can get a blow job out of it. Maybe when the stars come out, since it's there this future is written. "We're meant for each other and should consummate that as soon as possible," will be my opening line. I AM starting to feel that animal thing with the magnetism. I think I'll get rum drunk tonight. The old Mariner's way of clearing the sinuses. Navigatin' the stars under partly cloudy skies. BLACK MAGIC [says the journal in karate letters]
It's fertilizer. I will be on. I said if I heard Shirelle's Mustang, I was running and hiding. A lady smiled at me as she loaded groceries into her Firebird. Thing ran into Payless to get tiki torch fuel.
The chaotic blur at the line where the sky meets the sea. "Get away from me with that Hollywood bullshit kiss--you want to kiss me, use your tongue," I say to the hostess when we are introduced.
8:15
The party sucked. Everyone there was addicted to boredom. I drank several Blue Hawaiians. Oscar De La Hoya is fighting David Kamau tonight. I suggested to Thing we scat and watch it, but he was playing Mama's boy and wanted to stay and help clean up.
I've been to the Tavern, the Circle Bar, some seafood/cocktail place and a couple of others. Now I'm at the Fish Co. and none of them are showing the fight. At least the Angels and Giants are on, but the Giants are winning six to one. Make that seven to one. One of Satan's minions just homered. I regret ordering a beer. It turns out there is nowhere for me tonight. My horoscope lied like a female.
A cab will cost twenty or thirty bucks. Murdering time. I wish I was on fire and not burning.
Polly want a cracker.
The holly green, the ivy green, the prettiest picture you've ever seen is Christmas in Killarney, with all of the folks at home.
West on the 10 freeway toward Santa Monica and Hollywood hipster luau. My horoscope said I would have sex appeal and be clicking mentally, and people would say I should be a comedian. I'm hoping I can get a blow job out of it. Maybe when the stars come out, since it's there this future is written. "We're meant for each other and should consummate that as soon as possible," will be my opening line. I AM starting to feel that animal thing with the magnetism. I think I'll get rum drunk tonight. The old Mariner's way of clearing the sinuses. Navigatin' the stars under partly cloudy skies. BLACK MAGIC [says the journal in karate letters]
It's fertilizer. I will be on. I said if I heard Shirelle's Mustang, I was running and hiding. A lady smiled at me as she loaded groceries into her Firebird. Thing ran into Payless to get tiki torch fuel.
The chaotic blur at the line where the sky meets the sea. "Get away from me with that Hollywood bullshit kiss--you want to kiss me, use your tongue," I say to the hostess when we are introduced.
8:15
The party sucked. Everyone there was addicted to boredom. I drank several Blue Hawaiians. Oscar De La Hoya is fighting David Kamau tonight. I suggested to Thing we scat and watch it, but he was playing Mama's boy and wanted to stay and help clean up.
I've been to the Tavern, the Circle Bar, some seafood/cocktail place and a couple of others. Now I'm at the Fish Co. and none of them are showing the fight. At least the Angels and Giants are on, but the Giants are winning six to one. Make that seven to one. One of Satan's minions just homered. I regret ordering a beer. It turns out there is nowhere for me tonight. My horoscope lied like a female.
A cab will cost twenty or thirty bucks. Murdering time. I wish I was on fire and not burning.
Polly want a cracker.
The holly green, the ivy green, the prettiest picture you've ever seen is Christmas in Killarney, with all of the folks at home.
posted by johnz at 12:28 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home