11:09 AM July 7 W
I'm at Highland Grounds.  I wrote here about a month ago.  I just finished reading the newspaper.  I don't know what to do after this.  I guess I should ride back home and do my third-person page; make something to eat.  Maybe I could eat here.  Nah.  Well, what then?  I'm considering having Jim invite the Kmart cashier to the party. She's older and smarter. Maybe she can be like Lina Sheffield.  She can bring Jeffery.  Too bad I have to work tonight.  I wanted to go to the Acme Comedy Club to see Dan Castellaneta, the voice of Homer Simpson.  Tomorrow is Linda Ashour's novel reading at Dutton's.  I'm going to have to get out of work for that.  What else?  I've half a mind to go up to Q's tonight.  If I'm smart, though, I'll just stay in and watch "Tom Jones."  I smell.  I need to get home and take a shower.  I wonder if Florelle'll come by the house when she gets off today.  "McEwan's Ale is second to none."  I wish I wasn't working evenings.  I just heard someone say "marijuana."  What else? [pencil sketch of Crazy Jerry's Mind Blowin' Hot Sauce label]  I can make steak, eggs, cheese, and onions with warm tortillas when I get home.  I whipped through the crossword.  I feel like such a dullard.  The air's full of particulates.  IBM to sell its stake in Venture to Toshiba. 

7-4-99 Su 6:54 PM
1901 Oceanfront, Venice Beach: Balcony over the cement boardwalk pocked with stains of the devil knows what all.  We mostly focus on the profusion of breast below, even Barbara came out and commented on that exact topic without any prompting; it's a sex stream flowing by down there -- Nah, that's ridiculous.  I added a few measly lines to Jim this morning, misappropriating Melville for my own misbegotten aims [ink line sketch of Muscle Beach Cafe sign advertising HOT DOGS along with a cartoonish picture of a hot dog and PIZZA with cartoonish pictures of pizza and SOFT SERVE with a cartoonish picture of soft serve ice cream on a cone and other lettering for ORIGINAL NY PIZZA)] I can't see what I was drawing before because are were standing in the way, but they're not now.  I saw a dog with piercing, pale, blue eyes.  A person of indeterminate sex, blue hair and lips, a coarse male face, thick neck, and massive implants shifted about steadily, casting for looks.
7-5-99 2:49 PM M
I'm in bed at home.  Big Unit Randy Johnson and the DBacks are taking on Big Mac Mark McGwire and the Cardinals in St. Louis.  I watched the Cubs beat the Pirates at Three Rivers earlier while I read the paper.  Shirelle and I had breakfast at Cava on Third and Orlando.  I had a noveau grilled chicken omelette with goat cheese and black pepper sauce.  Then we walked to the General Cinemas at the Beverly Center and saw "Big Daddy" with Adam Sandler.  It was another one of those bachelor-finds-baby-on-doorstep movies.  It was likable.  After this I'll have to read some more Idiot.  Then I've got to try to work on Jim.  Then I guess I'll watch "Tender Mercies."  I've got to start a health kick today.  No booze, no smokes, eat smart.  Right after I make myself a turkey burger.  Time to start a new journal.  I wonder if I have any here. [Ticket to LACMA Van Gogh's Van Goghs]

2:04 PM Sat July 3, 1999
Demona sent me out to get ice for Shirelle's little party.  I decided to write this real fast while I'm out.  I'm at the Starbucks next to the Seven Eleven on Highland and Wilshire.  I wrote here a month ago. 
Last night, Getoff picked us up and drove us to Holloway and Sunset to meet Hosebag and his friends at O2, Woody Harrelson's hilarious oxygen bar. They want five dollars to go in and pay for what you can get from the air for free.  I couldn't abide the place and Getoff seemed to be of like mind, so we went next door to Red Rock, an alcohol bar, which made more sense.  Kayo found us up there.  I was absorbed by the music and was content to rock my head and not talk.  Hose talked about how his marriage to Teeny fell apart, which was that she is a nut-job.  I asked what were his expectations from the marriage.  He said he expected they would be able to work past the problems that were already there when they got married, but the actuality was that those problems only intensified.  I feel like that applies directly to Shirelle's plan for us to be married.  I'm DOOMED.  They're probably starting to wonder where I am now.  I won't be able to work anymore this afternoon.  I need to work Jim.  Look up irony.  Work this Moby Dick idea.  I've brought along The Idiot.  Do I dare read a chapter before getting the ice?  I got a parking ticket at The Bounty yesterday. I sent off my bills for the month.  I went to Roscoe's this morning.  I'm cultivating a heart attack.  Tomorrow we might go to a party in Venice.  I've been drunk now seven straight days.  Today and tomorrow will make nine.  I've spent hundreds, maybe a thousand or more dollars this week.  I read the newspaper and did the crossword puzzle.  Dr. J is Stevenson's dad. 

4:12 PM July 2, 1999 F
I'm at The Bounty.  I wanted a Monte Christo, but they're changing the oil in the fryer.  My arteries lucked out.  I guess I'll wait 'til those pork chops at home can be cooked.  I've just come from Mountain Meadows Golf Course in San Dimas.  I'm waiting for Shirelle to get off work.  My golf game mostly sucked.  I drank and smoked between shots.  We didn't get to finish the second round because my dumbass brother was trying to get to the Department of Motor Vehicles in Huntington Park before it closed because he lost his wallet at a titty bar in Colton last night, and it is apparently of paramount importance that he have ID to get into bars and party this weekend.  I wonder if Shirelle will make those pork chops gladly and promptly.  We're supposed to meet up with Walters and Hosebag tonight.  I'd rather chill in and write.  I did about half a third-person page on the themes of Jim before I had to leave this morning.  I read the sports page.  I dropped off my payroll forms at the office.  Shirelle's hosting some kind of BBQ at the house tomorrow.  I went to Blockbuster last night and rented "Tender Mercies" and "Duck Soup," and bought "An Evening at the Opera," and got "You've Got Mail" for Shirelle.  I fell asleep during "You've Got Mail."  When I'm done here, should I finish the newspaper or read some Idiot?  I heard someone say yesterday, "You are what you read."  It's brilliant.  I'm surprised I'd never heard it before.  I wish I'd thought of it.  All I've eaten today has been a burnt English muffin with Knott's Berry Farm boysenberry jelly.  I bought an Amstel Light, but I don't really want it.  I'm on about my third day in a row of sunburn.  I'm the youngest guy in the bar.  I wonder if Thing's back from Fresno. 

6-30-99 W 4:06 PM
Aboard the We Seven out of Oxnard. Anacapa's rugged cliffs sink slowly into the sparkling blue horizon.  I left LA about 7:15 last night.  About 8:15 I passed a sign for McGrath State Beach, where I was supposed to meet my fishing party, a Mormon youth group and their chaperones.  I was just cracking open my third beer as I exited the freeway.  That sign was to be the last I'd see of McGrath State Beach for about an hour or so.  I had to make many u-turns and stop at two liquor stores and a gas station and smoke a j before I found the campsite.  Three old-time Lancaster Mormons stood around the fire telling boring stories in goofy voices.  It was totally foreign to me that men wouldn't drink beer around a campfire on a fishing trip.  I'm the only non-Latter Day Saint in the bunch.  We went down to the dark beach to play "Capture the Flag."  CAPTURE THE FLAG for crying out loud!  It felt like court-ordered community service.  Whatever.  About midnight we went back to camp.  I rolled out my bedding in the grass.  I decided not to pitch my tent.  Dave said I slept in the dirt at Lake Cachuma a long time ago and woke up covered in spiders.  I remembered the trip, but not the spiders.  I did not sleep well.  I dreamt I was part of a paramilitary defensive against foreign invaders.  The next thing I knew someone was waking me by kicking my boot.  I got up and drank a thermos full of Kahlua and coffee. I had a private laugh at being the unknown anti-Mormon. We set sail about six thirty AM for the back side of Anacapa; rough-hewn by the sea, myriad caves stare like skulls' eyes.  A lighthouse and small settlement sit high up on the south end.  We saw a blue shark's fin slicing the waves like a sub's periscope. A sunfish swam awkwardly, tilting its flanks at the surface, as if struggling with its baffling design. I caught one decent perch.  It was the jackpot winner for most of the day until some other guys got barracuda strikes.  I'll be glad to get home.