4-27-98 M 8:55 AM
Alana's telling us about her weekend. 11:15 AM What shall I have for lunch? Tam's? I be eyeballin' lotsa wimmin today. Fuck the bitchcunt Shirelle forever and all time. It's almost time for lunch. It won't be too hard to become a bachelor again. Not this time. I'm on solid ground. I'm not Christ. I can't save her soul. I suppose I could die for her sins (if she gave me AIDS), I may yet--but I can't save her. 11:50 AM I ate only a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple for lunch. I'm in the little teacher's lounge. No one else is here. If someone comes in, I'll probably have to stop writing. All I had for breakfast was a bowl of cornflakes and a graham cracker. I wish that graham cracker had had more ham in it. What else? I tried to ground down my warts by scraping 'em back and forth across the rough asphalt. I should have washed that apple Marlin gave me. I can already feel the bacteria attacking my throat. What else?
Tim has come in. He's having a school pizza. I'd need to eat three of those things before I was happy.
"So wha'd you guys do in Santa Barbara?"
"Screw. A lot. Drank. Screwed some more. Mostly screwed. Played a little golf."
So, what the fuck else? Tim went to call the Science Center. Now I'm on a lunch bench. Christopher, who lives across the street from me, just came to sit by me. 12:30 Back in class. What, other than 'Fuck that cunt Shirelle for all time'? I just gave Marlin fifty standards because he won't read. There's a staff meeting tomorrow. I have to pay bills and go grocery shopping. What else? Typed for fifteen minutes this morning. Third person, comp book, Jim work to go still. Jim is such a stupid waste of time. Like to do some kind of painting with sleep as a theme. The kids are going to paint in a little while. Maybe we'll go outside and play some ball after this. The Milwaukee Brewers make their first ever visit to Dodger Stadium tonight. What else? Mrs. Holtz just stopped in to collect earthquake kit money. It's a supply kit for kids who may have to spend the night at school in case parents can't get through to pick them up after a big earthquake. I need some pussy. What else? Why is life so hateful? All the larger circumstances suck. Is God indifferent? Herzog seems to think so. Says death is God. The preacher in Ecclesiastes says the same, death is a release from earthly pain and vanity.
[pencil sketch of MAD magazine logo and Alfred E. Neumann]
Alana's telling us about her weekend. 11:15 AM What shall I have for lunch? Tam's? I be eyeballin' lotsa wimmin today. Fuck the bitchcunt Shirelle forever and all time. It's almost time for lunch. It won't be too hard to become a bachelor again. Not this time. I'm on solid ground. I'm not Christ. I can't save her soul. I suppose I could die for her sins (if she gave me AIDS), I may yet--but I can't save her. 11:50 AM I ate only a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple for lunch. I'm in the little teacher's lounge. No one else is here. If someone comes in, I'll probably have to stop writing. All I had for breakfast was a bowl of cornflakes and a graham cracker. I wish that graham cracker had had more ham in it. What else? I tried to ground down my warts by scraping 'em back and forth across the rough asphalt. I should have washed that apple Marlin gave me. I can already feel the bacteria attacking my throat. What else?
Tim has come in. He's having a school pizza. I'd need to eat three of those things before I was happy.
"So wha'd you guys do in Santa Barbara?"
"Screw. A lot. Drank. Screwed some more. Mostly screwed. Played a little golf."
So, what the fuck else? Tim went to call the Science Center. Now I'm on a lunch bench. Christopher, who lives across the street from me, just came to sit by me. 12:30 Back in class. What, other than 'Fuck that cunt Shirelle for all time'? I just gave Marlin fifty standards because he won't read. There's a staff meeting tomorrow. I have to pay bills and go grocery shopping. What else? Typed for fifteen minutes this morning. Third person, comp book, Jim work to go still. Jim is such a stupid waste of time. Like to do some kind of painting with sleep as a theme. The kids are going to paint in a little while. Maybe we'll go outside and play some ball after this. The Milwaukee Brewers make their first ever visit to Dodger Stadium tonight. What else? Mrs. Holtz just stopped in to collect earthquake kit money. It's a supply kit for kids who may have to spend the night at school in case parents can't get through to pick them up after a big earthquake. I need some pussy. What else? Why is life so hateful? All the larger circumstances suck. Is God indifferent? Herzog seems to think so. Says death is God. The preacher in Ecclesiastes says the same, death is a release from earthly pain and vanity.
[pencil sketch of MAD magazine logo and Alfred E. Neumann]
Labels: Lowlife LA Literature
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