10-27 3:45 PM Mon
There's not a thing to say. I stayed home from school with a cold, but I'm going to teach my night school class. I already typed these things in the fifteen minute file. I typed a random third person page. Randomness plagues my work. My nose is raw.
Getoff just stopped in. I complained about Carlin, his roommate, and we compared notes on what the problem is. It's too tedious to go into. I have to do my attendance. I have to do the Comp Book transcription. I have to read more Mailer bio. I have to work on Jim. I'm anxious to get this Mailer shit down so I can do my Disney research. When will I get those frames? What else? Ug. There's still two pages to go and I'm already out of things to say. I ate some mostaccioli my mom gave me for lunch. What else? My lips are chapped.
Our relationship is littered with landmines. I'd like to rent some movies. What else? Eep op orp ah ah means I love you. That's from The Jetsons, when Judy falls in love with a pop idol. Baby! Baby! Baby! Karen Berlin. What else? I read the first seven chapters of the Book of Job. If you accept the good God gives you, you must also accept the evil. What else? I raised the blinds. Thought it might give me an opening. It's autumn and it feels like it. As big a dork as Mailer seems in the bio, I see that I am second-rate in comparison. He plowed the fields in college. I made mine in a toxic waste dump. Maybe some strange mutation will result. What else? I have to leave in less than an hour. I guess I've got to shave maybe. Can I get in and out of the office without the boss spotting me? There are no drawings in this book. Should I draw the cover of the Mouse Tales book? Fuck. You see, I don't have the patience. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck every time I write fuck, the scratching of the pencil reveals its rhythm. Fuck.
[Godlen light shining from a castle in the outline of Micky Mouse ears]
There's not a thing to say. I stayed home from school with a cold, but I'm going to teach my night school class. I already typed these things in the fifteen minute file. I typed a random third person page. Randomness plagues my work. My nose is raw.
Getoff just stopped in. I complained about Carlin, his roommate, and we compared notes on what the problem is. It's too tedious to go into. I have to do my attendance. I have to do the Comp Book transcription. I have to read more Mailer bio. I have to work on Jim. I'm anxious to get this Mailer shit down so I can do my Disney research. When will I get those frames? What else? Ug. There's still two pages to go and I'm already out of things to say. I ate some mostaccioli my mom gave me for lunch. What else? My lips are chapped.
Our relationship is littered with landmines. I'd like to rent some movies. What else? Eep op orp ah ah means I love you. That's from The Jetsons, when Judy falls in love with a pop idol. Baby! Baby! Baby! Karen Berlin. What else? I read the first seven chapters of the Book of Job. If you accept the good God gives you, you must also accept the evil. What else? I raised the blinds. Thought it might give me an opening. It's autumn and it feels like it. As big a dork as Mailer seems in the bio, I see that I am second-rate in comparison. He plowed the fields in college. I made mine in a toxic waste dump. Maybe some strange mutation will result. What else? I have to leave in less than an hour. I guess I've got to shave maybe. Can I get in and out of the office without the boss spotting me? There are no drawings in this book. Should I draw the cover of the Mouse Tales book? Fuck. You see, I don't have the patience. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck every time I write fuck, the scratching of the pencil reveals its rhythm. Fuck.
[Godlen light shining from a castle in the outline of Micky Mouse ears]
Labels: Lowlife Literature
posted by johnz at 11:57 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home