1-2-99 Sa 4:40 PM
Well, what then?  The new year.  The last year of the century, of the millennium.  Momentous times ahead?  Personally or historically?  Whatever.  Who cares?  It doesn't matter.  I'm watching "I Love Lucy."  Lucy's trying to ruin Ricky's fishing trip.  Lucy.  Whatever.  I can tell this is going to be a completely meaningless entry.  When I'm done with this, I'll do some curls.  Then I'll shower and do some ironing.  I played basketball for a half hour in the backyard by myself.  What else?  I typed for fifteen minutes already.  Maybe if I smoke...  I'm not much of a writer.  Two weeks of this vacation are gone already, and I haven't put but one new page to Jim.  I was thinking again today how lame it is.  Looks like we're going out to shoot some pool in Pasadena tonight.

What I Crave

12-31-98 3:19 PM Th
I'm in Gip's Montero.  We're heading to Hawthorne and then to the Wild Goose strip club for a little while.  Then I guess Shirelle and I are going to Florelle's in Downey with a bottle of champagne for a little while.  After that, we're going to Miyagi's up on Sunset because Shirelle spent a hundred bucks on tickets for the New Year's party.  Whoo whoo.  Getting to Florelle's and back after five o'clock this evening could turn in to a nightmare.  I need to hit a cash machine.  I read the newspaper and did the cross word and typed for fifteen minutes.  I played basketball for half an hour.  I should have brought the Mohicans so I could read it on the way home.  What else?  We're in Inglewood.  What else?  Got a bad case of love.  What else?  I'm wearing plaid flannel.  We're in Hawthorne now.  Hole's on the radio as part of one of the annual countdowns.  We've got to pick up Gip's roommate Francisco.  He's staying at Gip's while his divorce goes through.  I wish I was more productive.  I wish I was going to the Playboy Mansion tonight.  I wish polygamy was legal.  We're at the Goose now.  One of the chicks here needs an ass implant.  That Mexican chick can do some PHENOMENAL T and A shake.  I said I'd pay five hundred bucks to have her shake on my cock like that for fifteen minutes.  Gip said, "Really?"  I said, "Well, maybe that's an exaggeration."  Jumpin' Jehosaphat on that shit, though.  Women can master your desire in way that is holy/unholy---?  Who knows?
We're on the way home now.  We're late.  Shirelle will be pissed.  We pass "An Adult Film and Video Purveyor."  The parking lot is full.

Why do I crave my own impairment?

A cel phone might save me a little grief right now.

I'm deja vuing on the full moon right now.

What else?  I had a Bud Light, a Coors Light, a Miller Lite, and a Wild Turkey at the Wild Goose.

Sorry About That

12-30-98 W 7:07 PM
I'm sitting at the counter at the Bob's Big Boy on Highland and Wilshire.  I'm just having a cup of coffee.  I went fishing at Castaic today.  Caught one fifteen inch bass.  Let him go.  No one else caught anything.  There were four of us: Rawler and the Costanzo brothers.  I waited at Astro Burger at six in the morning where they were going to pick me up.  I thought it would be open, but it wasn't, so I had to stand in the cold dawn on Santa Monica, one of the last streets you want to be loitering on at dawn if you don't want to mistaken for someone looking for a shemale prostitute.  My peripheral vision and inner ear are still rocking from being on the boat all day.  The Costanzo brothers are noisy, inexpert fisherman.  Bob's is chillin'.  I had Rawler drop me off at Shirelle's.  Her car was there, so I thought she would be, but she wasn't.  I hid my fishing gear under the hedge along side her house and walked to Astro Burger to page her on the payphone on the corner there and once again was hanging on Santa Monica like a homo-for-hire, waiting for a phone call that never came.  I went in and ordered an ostrich burger.  After I ate it, I started walking home.  I decided to stop here at Bob's to write these three pages.  I hope I get home in time to see the end of the Nebraska/Arizona bowl game.  I called my machine.  Shirelle called twice to say how much she loves me and once to tell me she was going to Miyagi's with Dina.  The Gip called, too.  I still have to do my fifteen minutes.  Read Mohicans, do a third-person page. extend Jim, all that.  I drank six beers fishing today.  I'll not drink anymore until tomorrow.  Haven't thought of what to do for New Year's Eve tomorrow yet.  My pencil needs to be sharpened.  Figures now Shirelle's in love with me again.  [pencil sketch of Bob's Big Boy logo] The front page of the Times has a picture of some Khmer Rouge leader "apologizing for the deaths of more than one million people in Cambodia."

"Uh, sorry about that."

12-
Ya walk around the room and the channels change.  What you feel is what you are and what you are is wonderful Want to get married?  Put your arms around me  I want to wake up where you are  I'll do anything you ever dreamed

"See that's the great thing about the president.  He's no better than you are.

Duhr.     Little extra spice in the simmer tonight.

"...because I'm a cruel and vicious bastard," he said.
She said, "Well, I don't think you're cruel or vicious."
He said, "See.  I don't think so either."
I heard about a guy who put Krazy Glue in his eyes because he wanted to trip out.
Did he go blind?
Duhr.
Wow, that's fucked up.
Whatever.     Poker over the phone.  '     I'm my own best man.      Has Boomer got nose cancer?      The way we pay.      I've seen the Ghost of Christmas Future and I still don't care.      I don't own a car.  Why do I have to pay insurance?
12:57 AM Tu 12-29-98
I'm battling the recurring urge to walk my ass up to Seven Eleven before two and get myself a couple of forties for the long night ahead.  I already typed my fifteen pages, and I made up for not finishing Daniel last Sunday by doing it today.  What a trip!  Big big trip.  I got a Bob Dylan tape out and put it in the stereo, and it's not Bob Dylan at all but some orchestral music by, it says, Sarah McLaughlin, "So Far, So Close."  Whatever.  Daniel is a trip.  I have to call Kronos.  What else?  Shirelle picked me up to go to April and Adam's.  We got caught in the Culver City Vortex.  Missed National, accidentally switched freeways, got off and u-turned, got going on the right freeway in the wrong direction; got off and u-turned again, found the National exit, made one more wrong turn and u-turn and finally parked and walked up the stairs to their apartment.  They brought back a kitten from Arkansas.  What else?  Maybe Seven Eleven will be an odyssey.  Too bad Ralph's isn't open.  I should get some milk, too.  It's weird being on vacation.  Up all night by myself, playing a lot more guitar than usual, getting ahead on my writing and exercise.  Got to put that name on the Bahamas trip.  Yikes!  What else?  Wish I could see something to draw.  So two forties is probably kind of a blow-it.  What else is there to do, though?  I just hope I don't get gunned down or anything like that out there.  Maybe I should just stay in and watch tv.

12-28-98  9:49 AM M
I didn't read any Bible yesterday.  I'll make up for it today when I'm done here.  My dad just called and offered to pay the airfare for Idaho.  I want to play basketball.  I got a little high.  Now [a line drawing of some kind of animal with a beak and four long legs] I feel lost.  I've got to work on Jim.  I have to work on Jim.  Maybe I should walk up to the library.  Getoff's car is in the driveway.  He's probably asleep.  My piece of shit is in the driveway, too.  I tried to get a new tuner at Guitar Center, but they didn't have the one I wanted.  Two weeks from now will be the first day back to Wilshire Knoll.  My mom just called.  I slept at Shirelle's last night.  She dropped me off here this morning.  I brought a bar and some weights abandoned in her basement.  Some guy named Chad who used to live there left them behind when he moved.  I'm going to bring the whole set here to Keniston.  How do you clear the junk out of your life.  Garage sale?  Yard sale?  Junk yard?  I want to clear out the garage and set the weight bench up in there.  What else?  Jim titty Jim Jim Jim.  Ugh fuck duh urgh ick.  I'm a retard.  What else?  If I go to the library, will that give me the date on which the story takes place?  Maybe I could have the characters argue about the date.  What should I do for exercise today?  I could walk to the Gap at the Beverly Center.  Ross flaked on golfing.  Maybe if I walk into a different room, I'll think of something else to write.  I've got to start studying people's refrigerators.  What else?  I should check my e-mail.  I'll not eat again til sundown and then only cereal.  Yeah, right.  Maybe I'll have some sushi on a long walk.  Marriage.  It looms large in my outer life.  It is something else entirely inside.  Whatever.  Shirelle gave me a copy of The Rum Diaries for Christmas.  How am I going to take care of this car situation?  Sam Houston's Cherokee nickname was Oo-Tse-Tee Ar-dee-Tak-see, translated as "Big Drunk."  That's good to know.  I called Getoff, but he didn't answer his phone.   I'll knock on his door if he doesn't call me back by noon.  What should I do about a car?  Whatever.  Why can't I figure out what to do about the damn kitchen?  [line drawing of Felix the Cat sleeping with a dream bubble over his head in which a log is being sawed with an arch of three Z's over it] I ought to cut the whole stupid scene.  Maybe I should drop writing entirely.  Ugh.  What else?  Ugh ack ick ock fuck.  Yikes.  Help.  What else?  I need a whole new me.  I'm a talentless egomaniac.  I'm a geek dork tripper.