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a crackhead mcgee kind of day
Junior Junior and Ben showed up yesterday.
So we all turned into zombies and devoured my little sister.
JuniorJunior decided he wanted to be able to run faster so I shaved racing stripes on each of his legs.
Then he decided he smelled bad so he took a shower and made us pick out an outfit for him. He threatened to freeball in a pair of my jeans(capris mind you. he didn't like his panty lines). I contested so he just borrowed my pink spiders shirt. We all went to mellow mushroom and hayley even got a piggy back ride out of it. Then we went to the mall. I don't know why, but I bought growing pains and garbagepailkids trading cards and tried to chew gum from 1987. We rented fahrenheit 9/11 and trainspotting. Hayley fell asleep.
Trainspotting was awesome, but I think the only reason it's Jenni's favorite is because of all the poop. We came home and h. went to sleep and I sat in my living room with a glass of whiskey and watched some romantic comedy about a girl who wanted to be a cabaret star. I fell asleep on the couch and my body feels painfully contorted. | | |
| me and danielle are going to be bff's with macaulay again.
right after he gets out of out patient....
MURDA!
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| I don't need a halloween costume.
I need a halloween identity, damnit.
Maybe a hXc-gun-totin-ramona-quimby-insect-grandma-western-outlaw-asaurus?
Breezing through Post Office.
Bukowski's blunt choice of words and casual descriptions of not so casual events keep shocking me, but they do not offend. I love the roughness. It's like sandpaper.
It's like Serge Gainsbourg. moan. I saw that clip from long ago where on national television, an intoxicated serge told an oversized-silver-bowed-sweet-sixteen whitney houston that he wanted to fuck her. Classic.
I finished a painting. Then I foolishly decided it wasn't finished.
I now realize that it had indeed been finished and that I should not have re-finished it. I made it much worse. I have a bad habit of fucking things up when I try to make them better.
Oh well. It's high school art class.
Even worse. It's a middle college art class.
I always feel like I should be fingerpainting in there.
Or making a gift for my mother made out of macaroni and popsicle sticks.
What am I talking about? I'm not an artist.
I Met A Genius
Charles Bukowski
I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.
it was the first time I'd
realized
that.
it's my favorite. | | |
| I know it's time for bed.
I've arrived at the end.
which will be known as
fuck off, 5 am
i'm gonna sleep for an hour! | | |
| For some unknown reason this kid refuses to sleep.
first it went.
hey, 1 am
you look rough
how about a smoke?
then it went
hey 2 am
what the fuck happened to you?
and now we've arrived at
4 am,
I don't know what you're trying to pull,
but I'm gonna have to ask you to leave | | |
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