I am one of those people who has a mental rolodex of ideas and impressions that need to get out when they occur, not filed away for later reference points. I find that if I do not write my shit down within a good 24 to 48 hour time span, be they stories ideas or…
Whoa. Read the paper today about that girl who said to those mugger kids, “whatcha gonna do, shoot me?”, and so they did. Makes you think twice about being super saucy to thugs with guns. I have waivered back and forth over the lines of thinking that these kids should be locked away for good…
Fictionalized details, based on RX-characters [names have been changed]: L=R.Monroe This is my lesson to miss Liza. She, being the invariable funny girl, gets herself involved in this situation that wreaked of drama, and youth and invariably led me to believe that she was just bored, and needed to get her kick on. Now, I…
It would not be a fiery furnace, it would be like walking into a large freezer, where your snot freezes at contact with the frigidness. Today is hell. In other news, though I am having difficulty controlling my fingers because they are creaky and stiff to type, it is a bit warmer inside than out….
Yes. So, given the status of the storm, I hooked up with him last night to make sure that if I were to be snowed in, it wouldn’t be all terrible. So I reside in Brooklyn. E is a peach and a half, having made me the most brilliant chicken soup ever. We went out…
I am one of those quasi-morning people. The very act of getting up isn’t something I so much enjoy, as much as I enjoy laying down, that is. But once I am up, I try to make the best of it, it’s a brand new day, new things can get fucked up, new people can…
Oh Jesus. I am battling the croak-n-groan gnarly lung spit lately, chewing shit that I spit up. I had my unemployment meeting this morning which is good since I don’t know if and when I will ever be working again. Such is the life of a bartender, sometimes things work out, sometimes they don’t. I…
I woke up yesterday sounding like “demi moore on a bad day” as coined by my friend. But it was a bit worse than that, my throat feeling as if it were stickily glued together with rubber cement, and me croaking as my dog looked around worriedly, probably convinced I was a beast still in…
I spoke to my mother for a little while yesterday afternoon while en route to the L train. It always vexes me how negative she can be in being sad. If you were upset that your daughter didn’t call for a while, would you really yell and throw a fit? Probably not. Probably you would…
Thanks, kids. Your existence in my life is both gratifying and interesting and superstar. I am gonna climb back up on that pedestal if I can. And I can. I will. But shhhh…. there are ways not worth discussing. Seeing is, after all, believing.
