Whatever Gets the Pen Moving
4-23-98 Th 8:15 AM
Damn. I'm bummed I left my Herzog book in my night school classroom. Now, not only do I have nothing to read during lengthy test sessions, I have to hope that prick Zanda doesn't do anything shitty with it. 1:45 PM Kids are having some downtime after testing. I read the Times, did the crossword, listened to the Dodgers lose to Milwaukee. What else? Fifteen minutes after work. Same old boring shit.
4-24-98 F 9:55 AM
In the Wilshire Hill auditorium, a few more hours of my life slip away with me in the trap. It's almost lunch. Unusual: I'm not hungry. Had a ham and cheese croissant, a half bagel with cream cheese, and a piece of yellow cake with chocolate frosting, which were placed as refreshments for the seminar we're attending. What else?
4-25-98 Sa 8:40 PM
From the Wild Goose. A topless bitch hangs upside-down from a brass pole. It would be cooler if her titties were big enough to hang upside-down. Nothing like a little misogyny to get the pen moving. We're watching the Angel/Devil Ray game here. Just ate a "buffalo burger". I don't believe it was really from a buffalo. We went to the batting cages before coming here. I took two hundred swings at 80 MPH. I suck. I busted down Shirelle's gate last night. Fuck everything. The curtains glitter. A few of the girls have talent and beauty. What are we going to do after this? How can I get out of this funk? I need a shower. I need to cheer up. Ugh. Jane's Addiction. She picks up her clothes and money and disappears. Shirelle says, "You're right. It's the movie business. It's evil."
I find out the Insanity Pepper lied to me about fucking one of the chicks here. Tink can only become a showgirl and not a stripper or else it will become too cliché. The GIP wants to get a table dance. Some skinny impy girl asked if I wanted one. I didn't. My conscience is a drawback; Shirelle's lack thereof leads her on.
4-26-98 Su 10:20 AM
Going to the Huntington to meet my mom and stepfather in a little while. Right now I'm at Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles. Howrad flaked. Shrill's a bitch. I start from scratch. We're going to Gordon-Birsch in Pasadena after the museum. Steve may meet us there. I should be home by seven, say. I'll read my Bible and do my fifteen minutes. I should finish Herzog soon. A baby squalls. Who can blame him? I looked over the sports page. Dodgers won. Kings lost.
Damn. I'm bummed I left my Herzog book in my night school classroom. Now, not only do I have nothing to read during lengthy test sessions, I have to hope that prick Zanda doesn't do anything shitty with it. 1:45 PM Kids are having some downtime after testing. I read the Times, did the crossword, listened to the Dodgers lose to Milwaukee. What else? Fifteen minutes after work. Same old boring shit.
4-24-98 F 9:55 AM
In the Wilshire Hill auditorium, a few more hours of my life slip away with me in the trap. It's almost lunch. Unusual: I'm not hungry. Had a ham and cheese croissant, a half bagel with cream cheese, and a piece of yellow cake with chocolate frosting, which were placed as refreshments for the seminar we're attending. What else?
4-25-98 Sa 8:40 PM
From the Wild Goose. A topless bitch hangs upside-down from a brass pole. It would be cooler if her titties were big enough to hang upside-down. Nothing like a little misogyny to get the pen moving. We're watching the Angel/Devil Ray game here. Just ate a "buffalo burger". I don't believe it was really from a buffalo. We went to the batting cages before coming here. I took two hundred swings at 80 MPH. I suck. I busted down Shirelle's gate last night. Fuck everything. The curtains glitter. A few of the girls have talent and beauty. What are we going to do after this? How can I get out of this funk? I need a shower. I need to cheer up. Ugh. Jane's Addiction. She picks up her clothes and money and disappears. Shirelle says, "You're right. It's the movie business. It's evil."
I find out the Insanity Pepper lied to me about fucking one of the chicks here. Tink can only become a showgirl and not a stripper or else it will become too cliché. The GIP wants to get a table dance. Some skinny impy girl asked if I wanted one. I didn't. My conscience is a drawback; Shirelle's lack thereof leads her on.
4-26-98 Su 10:20 AM
Going to the Huntington to meet my mom and stepfather in a little while. Right now I'm at Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles. Howrad flaked. Shrill's a bitch. I start from scratch. We're going to Gordon-Birsch in Pasadena after the museum. Steve may meet us there. I should be home by seven, say. I'll read my Bible and do my fifteen minutes. I should finish Herzog soon. A baby squalls. Who can blame him? I looked over the sports page. Dodgers won. Kings lost.
Labels: Lowlife LA Literature
posted by johnz at 1:36 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home