The Fucking Lickety Split Quick Bitch Switch
12-17 1:55 PM W
Fuck you. Ah, really fuck you all and fuck you all and fuck you all--Soundgarden
The more you suffer the more you know you really care
The Gip and I went to Madison's in Westwood. I paid for three rounds of Amstels. Gip's thirtieth birthday was the other day. We talked about Shirelle. He said she is a loser. He said she would be calling back when she needed something, wait and see. When I said she was with a make-up artist, he snorted, said she was being used, would get HIV, told me not to touch her ever again, not with a ten-foot pole, He said if she ever gave me anything, he would kill her himself, said if I ever needed an alibi, I could count on him.
The place was full of guys. We didn't talk to anyone else. We walked to Monty's. A band played soft Christmas jazz. I yearned to dance there with Shirelle like back when things were good.
I want to get an easel and some paints during the break. I'm going to take Thing to Vegas. Glorious wants to go. Zattan is having a party Friday. There's a work happy hour social in the marina that day. Carlin has rescheduled her party for Saturday. Today was the Wilshire Hill holiday program. Bunch of coked up kids butchering Christmas carols. A fine Nubian princess is subbing for Webster. I stared at her, but she never looked at me, though I felt she was aware of my stare. She passed close. I wanted to ask her name, but I was too chicken. Galivan says she'll come babysit me tonight.
What else? I need weed. What else? Yeah. Right. Read more Miller. Stole his money back from a whore, allowed a crazy jilted, exiled Russian princess to shack up with him and Fillmore. She was too tight to enter. What will I do when I get home? Jerk off? Or try to save some wood for a bone with Glorious? Type? Read. Sleep? Stare at the walls? Have a drink? Track down some weed? Call Susan? Call Glory? Call Karen? Go to the mall? The first person to line up will be Alcides. I got more fucking night school. That chick Lucia I want to do. Juan Chato saw me staring at her, intimated she was crazy circling his finger around his temple and pointed at her, then recommended his sister.
12-17 1:55 PM W
Fuck you. Ah, really fuck you all and fuck you all and fuck you all--Soundgarden
The more you suffer the more you know you really care
The Gip and I went to Madison's in Westwood. I paid for three rounds of Amstels. Gip's thirtieth birthday was the other day. We talked about Shirelle. He said she is a loser. He said she would be calling back when she needed something, wait and see. When I said she was with a make-up artist, he snorted, said she was being used, would get HIV, told me not to touch her ever again, not with a ten-foot pole, He said if she ever gave me anything, he would kill her himself, said if I ever needed an alibi, I could count on him.
The place was full of guys. We didn't talk to anyone else. We walked to Monty's. A band played soft Christmas jazz. I yearned to dance there with Shirelle like back when things were good.
I want to get an easel and some paints during the break. I'm going to take Thing to Vegas. Glorious wants to go. Zattan is having a party Friday. There's a work happy hour social in the marina that day. Carlin has rescheduled her party for Saturday. Today was the Wilshire Hill holiday program. Bunch of coked up kids butchering Christmas carols. A fine Nubian princess is subbing for Webster. I stared at her, but she never looked at me, though I felt she was aware of my stare. She passed close. I wanted to ask her name, but I was too chicken. Galivan says she'll come babysit me tonight.
What else? I need weed. What else? Yeah. Right. Read more Miller. Stole his money back from a whore, allowed a crazy jilted, exiled Russian princess to shack up with him and Fillmore. She was too tight to enter. What will I do when I get home? Jerk off? Or try to save some wood for a bone with Glorious? Type? Read. Sleep? Stare at the walls? Have a drink? Track down some weed? Call Susan? Call Glory? Call Karen? Go to the mall? The first person to line up will be Alcides. I got more fucking night school. That chick Lucia I want to do. Juan Chato saw me staring at her, intimated she was crazy circling his finger around his temple and pointed at her, then recommended his sister.
Labels: Lowlife LA Literature
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