1-17-99 Su 3:39 PM
I'm sore from belly-flopping in the dirt at my baseball game today.  I think I bruised my ribs.  Got scrapes on both elbows and one knee, too.  All to get our a$$es kicked sixteen to two or something.  I had better success against the Sunday crossword.  My hands are slipping around on this pencil because they're greasy from the Icy Hot I smeared on f--ked up shoulder.  I have to remember to pay that f--king ticket for my brother.  It's overcast today.  The Broncos are pulling away from the Jets in the third quarter.  What else?  I typed my fifteen minutes today.  Have to read some Under the Volcano.  No school tomorrow.  We've got to drive out to Pasadena in the morning to meet up with Rawler to go fishing tomorrow.  We're supposed to be back by three.  That should give me three hours to submit my religious freak story to The New Times.  I've got to iron some clothes and put a load in the wash.  I guess I can do that tomorrow.  I've got to watch "From Here to Eternity" before midnight, too.  What else?  What about tonight?  I've got to call Florelle.  I'd like to workout some, too.  I wish that treadmill wasn't f--ked up .  Tigger's exulting on my coffee cup [pencil drawing of Tigger jumping in the air with arms spread].  Yoda's on the front of the Calendar section today.  What else?  Like to strum my guitar tonight.  The Gutierrez brothers are playing at their place tonight.  I'd like to go, but I really don't see that happening.  Jim and Ting and Aaron are about to get in the car.  The company Olds or Aaron's Jetta?  Then finally the rollerblading thing.  Mariachi wants me to go on a Stateline bus trip with him a the end of the month.  Ugh.  I kind of have to take a crap.  I finished reading about the Moroccan city of Fez in my National Geographic.  The next story is about the Tennessee-Tom River.  I wonder how blasphemous my Bayles story is?  Am I consigning myself to Hell for a laugh?