PBFFFT
6-24-98 8:10 pm W
What should I do? Bob Segar is singing "Turn the Page". I love this song. Thing has just come home. He's checking his mail. He hiccups and comes upstairs. I just puffed a little. Got to work on Jim. Thoughts of going out. "Hi, j," says Thing.
"What's going on?" I say in my throat.
"Another day, another dollar," he says. "Shirelle must have been pretty mad at me. She called me at work."
"Sorry you got to be in the middle of that." I say. Then, "I went golfing today."
"Who with?"
"Some kid from the UCSB golf team, supposedly, and an old Korean man."
"Did the kid kick your ass?"
"Naw. You know, he had his nice bag, and his shirt and towel and everything, but he wasn't that good. I mean not as bad as me, but the old Korean guy, Lee, of course, kicked the crap out of us either way, even though we had to lend him our putters."
I watched "The Searchers" today--John Wayne in search of Comanche-kidnapped Natalie Wood. I baked a chicken while I watched it and lay on the couch. This couch is as dirty as Vegas, but it fits my crooked back pretty good. It's right under the window. I cleaned the dishes when I was done and took out the trash.
Ed was wearing a Kidd Maverick jersey.
"...or could it be because she's a fucking nut driver?"
Got some laundry to iron. I'm not too bad with irons. Got some homers to hit. What about that whole bit in "Searchers" where they have this cute little fight over a bride? Whatever. What else? Kind of want a beer. I wish I had some dumbbells. Barbells, actually. A curl bar, specifically. What else? Segar's still on. I ironed and hung those shirts. Like a rock standing arrow straight. Smoked two Drums on the golf course. She was a conbitch snowjob.
"How about dumping me off in Hollywood somewhere?" I said to Thing, who was on his way to some event in the hills.
What about tomorrow? Type in the morning. Bacon and eggs for breakfast. Go to the store and get an onion and some garlic. A jug of water. A bottle of vitamins. Wine maybe. What if I go to Hawthorne? Rozelle's to plan canoes at Tim's with me and Gabina. She mentioned Gay Adrian. Should I go out to a bar? Go out for a beer? I could read Augie. I could stare at Jim. What about the fire inside to go outside?
"What else do you want broken? " My inner left ear is itching. I wish there was a cool bar I could walk to with friendly people. What if there were ants in there? Isn't the immune system an amazing thing? Your body produces little creatures that attack little creatures that make you sick. Where would I go tonight? I could call the GIP.
What should I do? Bob Segar is singing "Turn the Page". I love this song. Thing has just come home. He's checking his mail. He hiccups and comes upstairs. I just puffed a little. Got to work on Jim. Thoughts of going out. "Hi, j," says Thing.
"What's going on?" I say in my throat.
"Another day, another dollar," he says. "Shirelle must have been pretty mad at me. She called me at work."
"Sorry you got to be in the middle of that." I say. Then, "I went golfing today."
"Who with?"
"Some kid from the UCSB golf team, supposedly, and an old Korean man."
"Did the kid kick your ass?"
"Naw. You know, he had his nice bag, and his shirt and towel and everything, but he wasn't that good. I mean not as bad as me, but the old Korean guy, Lee, of course, kicked the crap out of us either way, even though we had to lend him our putters."
I watched "The Searchers" today--John Wayne in search of Comanche-kidnapped Natalie Wood. I baked a chicken while I watched it and lay on the couch. This couch is as dirty as Vegas, but it fits my crooked back pretty good. It's right under the window. I cleaned the dishes when I was done and took out the trash.
Ed was wearing a Kidd Maverick jersey.
"...or could it be because she's a fucking nut driver?"
Got some laundry to iron. I'm not too bad with irons. Got some homers to hit. What about that whole bit in "Searchers" where they have this cute little fight over a bride? Whatever. What else? Kind of want a beer. I wish I had some dumbbells. Barbells, actually. A curl bar, specifically. What else? Segar's still on. I ironed and hung those shirts. Like a rock standing arrow straight. Smoked two Drums on the golf course. She was a conbitch snowjob.
"How about dumping me off in Hollywood somewhere?" I said to Thing, who was on his way to some event in the hills.
What about tomorrow? Type in the morning. Bacon and eggs for breakfast. Go to the store and get an onion and some garlic. A jug of water. A bottle of vitamins. Wine maybe. What if I go to Hawthorne? Rozelle's to plan canoes at Tim's with me and Gabina. She mentioned Gay Adrian. Should I go out to a bar? Go out for a beer? I could read Augie. I could stare at Jim. What about the fire inside to go outside?
"What else do you want broken? " My inner left ear is itching. I wish there was a cool bar I could walk to with friendly people. What if there were ants in there? Isn't the immune system an amazing thing? Your body produces little creatures that attack little creatures that make you sick. Where would I go tonight? I could call the GIP.
posted by johnz at 11:04 AM
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