Thinking Like That is Probably Normal
5:50 PM W 8-5-98
A loose screw in this table causes delicate weight shifts as I write which elicit sounds of a novice musician playing an out-of-tune violin.
I've just walked to night school after a day of lying around half-awake from, I believe, the side effects of sinus medicine I swallowed after breakfast while I was reading the paper.
Shirelle brought me home around four o'clock. I turned on the computer and started typing for fifteen minutes, but halfway through, I had to go to the toilet. I brought the phone with me so I could talk to the credit card company about my interest rate, which is supposed to be 4.9% but which is listed on my statement as 13.99%, I waited on hold a long while. I wanted to check the "finance charges" at different rates with the calculator on the computer, and when I closed the file I had been typing in, I forgot to save what I had written. The calculator didn't have the functions I needed, or if it did, I wasn't smart enough to figure it out. I watered the plants and walked to class. Whenever I passed an old enough girl, I wondered how their pussies were. Had they been fucked recently? Ever? Were they fulfilled? I imagined asking the question aloud. "Hi. How are you? Are your pussies okay? Are you fulfilled?" I thought these things even as I was reading the Maughm book as I walked. He went from Cyprus to Spain. One of the ladies whose pussy I was wondering about walked into a botanica, a black woman, from the Indies maybe. Was she going in for a love potion?
6:31 PM Th 8-6-98
McKee's expecting me for a chess game tomorrow afternoon. I napped this afternoon away again today. I should make an appointment for a checkup before I leave for Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania: I was looking at a National Geographic map titled Megalopolis showing the east coast from Boston to D.C.. It made me want to fly out earlier so I could visit all those cities and still spend time with my aunt and uncle and cousins. I took my camera to Samy's to see about repairing it. They said it would be two weeks before they could even give an estimate. I don't think that will be enough time. Maybe I will have to buy a new camera.
What else? I had to take a crap at Shirelle's this morning, but Christina was in the shower. I was afraid I couldn't hold it, so I got in the car and drove to the Formosa with my asshole fighting to stay clamped shut. When I was done, I stayed and had a beer and worked on the crossword. The Times had reviews of two new sushi joints. Miyagi is owned by the same guy that owns Dublins. It's down Sunset a little way from Shrill's. Maybe we'll go there tonight. The Hump is at Santa Monica airport, named after WWII pilots' name for Everest when they flew supplies into China, so says the Times.
1:10 AM 8-7-98 F
I'm at Shirelle's now.
A loose screw in this table causes delicate weight shifts as I write which elicit sounds of a novice musician playing an out-of-tune violin.
I've just walked to night school after a day of lying around half-awake from, I believe, the side effects of sinus medicine I swallowed after breakfast while I was reading the paper.
Shirelle brought me home around four o'clock. I turned on the computer and started typing for fifteen minutes, but halfway through, I had to go to the toilet. I brought the phone with me so I could talk to the credit card company about my interest rate, which is supposed to be 4.9% but which is listed on my statement as 13.99%, I waited on hold a long while. I wanted to check the "finance charges" at different rates with the calculator on the computer, and when I closed the file I had been typing in, I forgot to save what I had written. The calculator didn't have the functions I needed, or if it did, I wasn't smart enough to figure it out. I watered the plants and walked to class. Whenever I passed an old enough girl, I wondered how their pussies were. Had they been fucked recently? Ever? Were they fulfilled? I imagined asking the question aloud. "Hi. How are you? Are your pussies okay? Are you fulfilled?" I thought these things even as I was reading the Maughm book as I walked. He went from Cyprus to Spain. One of the ladies whose pussy I was wondering about walked into a botanica, a black woman, from the Indies maybe. Was she going in for a love potion?
6:31 PM Th 8-6-98
McKee's expecting me for a chess game tomorrow afternoon. I napped this afternoon away again today. I should make an appointment for a checkup before I leave for Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania: I was looking at a National Geographic map titled Megalopolis showing the east coast from Boston to D.C.. It made me want to fly out earlier so I could visit all those cities and still spend time with my aunt and uncle and cousins. I took my camera to Samy's to see about repairing it. They said it would be two weeks before they could even give an estimate. I don't think that will be enough time. Maybe I will have to buy a new camera.
What else? I had to take a crap at Shirelle's this morning, but Christina was in the shower. I was afraid I couldn't hold it, so I got in the car and drove to the Formosa with my asshole fighting to stay clamped shut. When I was done, I stayed and had a beer and worked on the crossword. The Times had reviews of two new sushi joints. Miyagi is owned by the same guy that owns Dublins. It's down Sunset a little way from Shrill's. Maybe we'll go there tonight. The Hump is at Santa Monica airport, named after WWII pilots' name for Everest when they flew supplies into China, so says the Times.
1:10 AM 8-7-98 F
I'm at Shirelle's now.
Labels: Literary Los Angeles, Lowlife Literature
posted by johnz at 9:22 PM
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