8-27 2:10 PM W
Morro Bay.  From the patio table here in front of our hotel room I can see the rock through the masts across the bay.  A steady wind blows across the pool.  The wind was cited as the reason the fishing boat didn't go out this afternoon.  I guess we'll try tomorrow.  Sounds like we'll have trouble finding a campsite around Big Sur.  The later the boat comes back, the more trouble we'll have.  We're going to hit up these restaurants along the embarcadero for happy hour.

[A crude pen and ink line drawing of Morro Bay, the rock, the masts, the pool and more] 4:10 PM Talking with Virginia and an old guy whose name I forgot.  They're telling us about the scandalous love story that led to their togetherness.  He was an ad man for the Wallace-Spokane Spokesman Review.  She was married.  Her husband got thrown in jail at Hayden Lake at an Aryan Nations rally after the two of them had been golfing.   I can't tell if he was for or against the Arayan Nations.  While hubby was in jail, the other two were getting it on in a Wallace hotel.  "Futka and soda," Virginia orders.
Windsurfers on the whitecaps.  Flag on a paddle boat rippling in the wind.  This is the Harbor Hut.  The bartender asked if anybody wanted anything else because she would be away for a few minutes.  I said, "Don't worry.  We'll pour our own drinks."  Virginia and whatshisname are trying to arrange an orgy with Shirelle and me at their place in Santa Clarita.  Old fisherman on my other side has a biceps like a tough tomato. 

Topless Tatooed Twats

8-26 Tu 5:50 PM
Should I be ashamed I'm at Dublin's again, playing NTN again?  I was at K-Mart looking for tents and fishing stuff.  They didn't have any good tents, but I got a new pole, rod, line, lure, creel, bait, net, weights, and hooks and stuff.  I guess I will head up to Big Sur area.  Maybe camp Pismo Beach tonight.  Big Sur tomorrow.  Call Hosebag to meet Saturday in Berkeley.  I want to party in Jack London Square maybe.  I have to stop by Big 5 after happy hour and try to get a tent.  The pretty waitress is playing pool alone.  A biker who I came back to beat on the last question came over to shake my hand.  They've got their helmets on the bar.  They're talking about big over-the-line parties at the beach.  He says they throw sheets over the volleyball nets and project old Laurel and Hardy films to attract a party.  My score was in the top five for the month.  Biker says, "Most impressive young Skywalker, Obi Wan has taught you well."  I looked up, and the pretty waitress was looking at me and yawning.  Ebony/Ivory/Living in perfect harmony

[pencil line drawing of an alligator advertising Bud Light] I'll make a double cheeseburger with grilled onions when I get home.  There are sliced limes and lemons, olives, and maraschino cherries in front of me.  Guy with tattoos next to me asks, "Is that just a journal or are you like screenwriter or something?"  I said it was just a journal.  

[arrow pointing down with FIRE EXTINGUISHER written inside]  What else?  Bartender says he got clobbered on the last two.  Johnny Angry Johnny Jezebel in Hell.  The pimentos in two olives stare at me unblinking.  "Got crushed," says the bartender.  What the Hell else? 

[Miller Genuine Draft and a pencil drawing of a shamrock]  American bike rags are too politically correct," says Gavin.  I say, "What about EZ Rider: topless tattooed twats, that ain't so PC."  "In terms of grading bikes," he said.  "They never tell you if a shitty bike is a shitty bike or not."  "Ah, I see." 

Puritanical and Provacative

Su 8-24 7:35
Back at the Dublin.  Been hangin with Eric and Amy the bartendress.  Won all three NTN games.  Going to play the winner of two girls in a pool game.  Amy is a budding singer.  The waitress just came up and said, "What ya writin'?"  I said, "Oh, whatever I can think of.  Got any ideas?""No," she sang.  "Well, if you think of anything, let me know."  She said, "All right," and moved off.  I've got a Sam Adams going.  Simon, the bartender, gave me this bartender's handbook.  I asked for a Zamboanga Hummer.  Amy made it.  We all sipped it and were pleased.  There are some girls playing darts.  I want to play with them.  I'm going to be faced with a quandary when it's time to go cuz I brought my car, and I've had about five drinks this hour.  I wonder if it will be smarter--
Amy the bartendress just said, "Are you going to take my advice and..." she made a motion with her body that was not quite a shrug, "...drink up and write?"  I said, "I don't know.  I'm more of a stoner writer."  She walked away.  A dark-as-night girl named Vay, who is a Pisces, asked me to save her seat while she went upstairs.  Amy Ashely is from Utah.  She wants to own her own restaurant and sing like in the "The Fabulous Baker Boys."  ~~~Peanut shells on the bar.  Amy has a freckle on her back left shoulder and one just above her lip.  She has a scar on the back of her right arm above the elbow.  Now I'm sitting with Jeff from Cheshire, England.  Says it's a strange country.  "The U. S. or England?" I ask.  "Here," he says.  "It's both Puritanical and provocative."

Sat 8-23 10-10 PM
I climbed out the window and onto the roof and started to write, but my pen ran out, so I came back in and am now sitting on the couch where I have seen now first two, then three beautiful girls walk by in party dresses.  I went into my room and put on a shirt and walked outside in their general direction and crashed the party.  An English-accented guy introduced himself as Edward.  He said I looked like a grip.  I laughed.  I told him I was a stuntman.  Eventually I explained that that is synonymous with being a teacher.  He laughed.  I should have lied.  I should have told him I am a comedian.  The party was a low-budget wedding reception.  Polaroids of the bride and groom were arranged on a hall table. 

Tink wants to sing.  Hot jack-Mormon girls at the bar. 

Fri 8-22 9:23 PM
Q's on the Westside.  Thing and I are playing Trivial Pursuit on NTN.  Porno-dressed girls sit across from us.  I ordered and ate a steak sandwich.  I'm in first place out of fifteen people here.  Scratch that--I just fell into second and lost the game cuz I picked the Dave Clark 5 as the artists of the '64 hit "Glad All Over" when it was The Platters.  We've just left Esteban Gracias' house around the corner.  Pablo and Sanyo came to pick me up.  We watched the Dodger game.  I love Sanyo.  Pablo doesn't.  They are together because she doesn't know that.  Should I tell her?  The DJ is pumping Prince's "1999".  I'm drinking a Jim Beam.  I just ordered a lite beer.  I had a Corona and a Sam Adams and a vodka and cranberry at Esteban's.  Now we hear Smashing Pumpkin's "Want to Go For a Ride?" (?).  The porno girls have gone.  Thing doesn't shoot pool.  Traffic moves along Wilshire out the open windows.  Our bar came in first in the nation in scoring.  Team Kotor beat me barely and was first in the nation.  What else?  I sat around all day and typed and watched pornos and made quesadillas and drank coffee.  What more?  It's loud in here.  We're sitting on the corner of the bar.  We have a pack of Marlboro reds.  I'm in first place again.  Carpal tunnel syndrome affects the wrists.  Says singer Tom Waits was born in the back of a Pomona cab.  Gimme shelter.  I'm in second.  I just changed my correct answer of Gene Kelly to the incorrect one of Donald O'Connor for who directed "My Fair Lady."  Fucking Thing got it right and didn't tell me after I've been giving him correct answers all night.  Chick with spaghetti strap dress upstairs has tattoo on shoulder.  I can't tell what it is, though.  Got another one wrong.  I'm in fourth now.  Fuck. 

Th 8-19 1:30 PM
The fact that plants and trees grow is miracle enough.  Of soil and water springs forth the mighty sequoia from a seed the size of an oatmeal flake, converting sunlight into matter, proving Einstein's equations, giving oxygen to man, suggesting God's plan.  Fire seems evil.  Should I walk or drive to the drycleaner's?  I'm sweating in the Chrysler.  I should just walk.  I should invest in sunblock.  What if I drive down and get a newspaper and drive home and read it?  And read Slouching Toward Bethelhem and Good-bye, Mr. Rosewater, and do the third person page and the Jim paragraph.  The extension catalog came.  What if I walk?  Exercise vs. sun cancer.  Walk tomorrow to pick up when cooler. 

Blah

M August 18 8:43 PM
From my desk.  The fan squeaks overhead.  We like to joke that the blades will come flying off one day and decapitate me.  Jim and Aaron are waiting for me.  I cleared half my desk, sort of.  I should go turn over my tape.  The computer hums steadily.  Some barely discernible tv dialog.  A-Team reruns.  Take me down...      I got a post card of Glacier National Park from my Stepmother.  I'm going to rent some videos.  Shirelle's coming over.  Thing just went into the fridge.  I ate at Jack in the Box today.  I bought a new VCR at K-mart, and a new coffee pot.       John Bayless just called.  He and Peter Lee may be coming up to LA tomorrow.  There's a John Williams concert and interviews on PBS right now.  They're playing the theme from "Schindler's List".  What else?  Tomorrow I'll take some clothes to the tailor.       The applause!  The ovation!       This tape isn't the tape I thought it was when I bought it.       What else?      I watched Mission Viejo win their Little League World Series game.  Saw the Angels lose.  Saw Rob Johnson lead the Jaguars over the 'Niners.       I can't think.  ---my drug-addled brain.    The Stephen King movie, "Needful Things" is on.  Lots of Maine scenery.  What else?  I should call Kayo and Seedy-O.  Ug.  What else?  I lay in Shirelle's bed and said all the things I saw in the ceiling.  I don't remember them now.  Animals, birds, continents.  Got a stomach full of grease.  I can't think of anything to write.  The ways of seeing things, their physical properties, their histories, their uses, the visions, and thoughts and memories they trigger.  There's pressure now because Shirelle's waiting to come over.  My shoulder hurts again.  I won't be able to work on Jim tonight now unless I wait for her to go to bed.  Buttons snap against the insides of the drier.  What else?  I had alcohol poisoning this morning.  The clouds were hot pink at sundown tonight.  I put on a Ben Harper tape--sort of would-be Jimi-Hendrix blues.  Reading the lyrics was boring.  The music is cool.  Got to go over the JC notes.  Maybe I'll have another bowl of cereal.  Read some Vonnegut.  Work with Jim.  Work on Jim. Tomorrow I want to wake up by eight.  Maybe I'll walk up to Bob's and the backpack place.  Read and write up there.  I need to increase my correspondences.