More on Whoredoms
1-4-99 M 10:27 AM
Beautiful sunny day. I've been on the phone this morning trying to get some guys together for a basketball game in the backyard. I think Ralph and Rodney and Dwayne and Elmer are going to come, and I left messages for Glen and Nattaz, and my brother might come. I would like to go for a walk somewhere and buy a bike today. I also want to get a book for the Atkins protein diet I've been hearing so much about. I might like to try to find a book of the original Pinocchio as a gift for someone. A kind of inside joke. Get the Disney version for that someone's kids. Yesterday, waiting in line at the market, Shirelle was questioning my enthusiasm for matrimony. She said maybe there's someone like me who's more into books and writing that I might be happier with. I'm not going to tell you what I said--was it discretionary or cowardly? We saw an awful movie last night called "The Thin Red Line." A three-hour waste of life, and excruciating waste of time. Who cares? What else? I typed my fifteen minutes this morning. Wrote about my baseball game yesterday. I've got to read the last of The Last of the Mohicans this week. I've got about a hundred and fifty pages to go. After this I'll check the phone book for bike shops around here. There's probably not enough time to walk up to Border's and back before those guys show up for hoops. I have to brush my teeth. I ate some chicken meat for breakfast. I'll skip lunch. Maybe I'll have a puff later. I've still got mushrooms left. I'll save them for Friday afternoon. What else? What more? I started the book of Hosea yesterday morning. More on whoredoms. It was weird because it seemed to me that God was orchestrating the whoredoms while condemning the Israelites for it, but maybe I read it wrong. Weird, too, that I found a scrap of Revelations in my pants pocket about Satan being bound and thrown into the Lake of Fire, I guess it was. I'll probably just be getting to that part as Christian doomsayers reach a fever pitch at the turn of the millennium. When will I do my third-person page? When will I put another page on stupid Jim? That last sentence stopped me for about ten minutes. Ugh. What else? No alcohol for me for a while. Shall I try for forty-one days? More? That's going to suck. Maybe not.
Beautiful sunny day. I've been on the phone this morning trying to get some guys together for a basketball game in the backyard. I think Ralph and Rodney and Dwayne and Elmer are going to come, and I left messages for Glen and Nattaz, and my brother might come. I would like to go for a walk somewhere and buy a bike today. I also want to get a book for the Atkins protein diet I've been hearing so much about. I might like to try to find a book of the original Pinocchio as a gift for someone. A kind of inside joke. Get the Disney version for that someone's kids. Yesterday, waiting in line at the market, Shirelle was questioning my enthusiasm for matrimony. She said maybe there's someone like me who's more into books and writing that I might be happier with. I'm not going to tell you what I said--was it discretionary or cowardly? We saw an awful movie last night called "The Thin Red Line." A three-hour waste of life, and excruciating waste of time. Who cares? What else? I typed my fifteen minutes this morning. Wrote about my baseball game yesterday. I've got to read the last of The Last of the Mohicans this week. I've got about a hundred and fifty pages to go. After this I'll check the phone book for bike shops around here. There's probably not enough time to walk up to Border's and back before those guys show up for hoops. I have to brush my teeth. I ate some chicken meat for breakfast. I'll skip lunch. Maybe I'll have a puff later. I've still got mushrooms left. I'll save them for Friday afternoon. What else? What more? I started the book of Hosea yesterday morning. More on whoredoms. It was weird because it seemed to me that God was orchestrating the whoredoms while condemning the Israelites for it, but maybe I read it wrong. Weird, too, that I found a scrap of Revelations in my pants pocket about Satan being bound and thrown into the Lake of Fire, I guess it was. I'll probably just be getting to that part as Christian doomsayers reach a fever pitch at the turn of the millennium. When will I do my third-person page? When will I put another page on stupid Jim? That last sentence stopped me for about ten minutes. Ugh. What else? No alcohol for me for a while. Shall I try for forty-one days? More? That's going to suck. Maybe not.
Labels: Lowlife LA Literature
posted by johnz at 8:10 PM
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