always took umbrage at the names, drunk flunked out of school, unrelated HEY HON!

 

I’m currently cooking pasta . and by that I mean the stove is heating up and when the water reaches a boil I’m going to drop some premade dry pasta into it.  I need to find that 17 minute Warrior promo and turn it into my manifesto and/or ideology and/or philosophy by which I live my life.  I have a crisp twenty dollar bill in my breast pocket . I forgot it was there.  I finished reading a novel today.  Had a brief discussion with someone who is wasting their life and the subject of math systems came up.  People use words so carelessly.  Or do they?! The more I learn the less I want to know.  I’m reminded of a hilarious mystery novel I read a few years back.  pulp.  May want to reread that novel at some point in my miserable worthless life.  new match out! Barefoot, pantyhose, low blow.  But alas, I’m Ricky Insolvency, reporting from the gutters, bringing you true journalism (the type Abel can trust) and I do not have the scratch to partake in one of my favorite indulgences.  Is this the worst year of my life?  hard to say.  They’ve all been pretty bad.  I’m waiting on a parcel to arrive today.  I touched upon this in yesterday’s post.  I’m about to have lunch but I’m also wondering what I’m going to have for dinner!  Anti-life justifies my hate.  I recently ate pasta.  I washed it down with a tall glass of room temperature tap water (my personal favorite).  I’ve been thinking about triangles a lot less these days but I’m sure that will change at some point.  It all always comes back around on itself.  I inevitably resort to my own life.  thinking about that stewardess who generously sells her used pantyhose and I damn myself for being underwater and not having the scratch when I so desperately need it.  but that’s just the insolvent life and I wouldn’t have it any other way (wouldn’t have it any other way).  Cover is like painted letters over a photo backdrop of mountains.  I’ve had it for roughly twenty years now.  took a while to hit me.  I remember walking through the hallway and snapping my fingers.  then writing a terrible story in the art room.  Took me forever to find things worth writing about.  I’m still failing! Like always! and like never before!  Would like to order a custom but I just don’t have the scratch.  I’ll probably be drinking in a couple hours.  Need to take a good judicious crap soon!  I get electrocuted in a lot of my fantasies.  One of my favorite things in life is when pages are intentionally left blank.  Another one of my favorite things in life is when people threaten to take their banking elsewhere.  I also really love muscle mommies and regularly fantasize about them strangling and in general cutting off my oxygen supply in all sorts of imaginative ways.  I’m going to write a story about a dog.  It’s going to be based on a true story.  Someone should write a biography of a biographer.  I like when people ask me if I have any matches.  I never do.  I regularly fantasize about being asked if I have any matches.  In the fantasy I always say I don’t and this is true.  But the twist comes from the fact that I do have a lighter in my pocket but they never think to ask me if I have a lighter and so it becomes this little private victory and in the fantasy I smile about this and everyone just goes on about their business.  I remember once lighting a cigarette for a woman and eventually I was kissing this woman’s leather boots.  Oh those were the days.  Or were they?!  The more I learn the less I want to know.  The bar I’m going to later today has real ugly ass bartenders.  There’s a purity to the ugly ass bartender.  Numbers.  Reading these spinoffs has helped flesh things out.  Love Grant.  Was thinking about a Brazilian bbw sitting on my face earlier but I didn’t dwell on the subject.  I just moved on with my life.  I welcome an epistemic collapse.  I only lament that I don’t have the ability to bring one about myself.  Most people are not really worth talking to.  I need an updated reading list.  I need various updated reading lists in fact.  There are a great many years of my life that don’t make any sense and it feels like those memories belong to an entirely different person.  I know what I need to read to restore my sense of self.  Of course, I think as my head goes light, how utterly proper.  JUST SHUT UP!!!  There are people in my life that I wish would just evaporate but that doesn’t seem to be a possibility.  It is so cruel that we thrust into this world without being asked if it’s what we want and then we are stuck with certain people.  You are going to be so sorry one day for the way you treated us.  Remember the chocolate donut!  People are awful.  People are just the absolute worst.  Man I hate people.  Oh no, chest feeling strange again.  What could this mean?  Is all hope lost?  Donut in the sky.  At a drive through the other day a woman complimented my coat.  As the match progressed they gradually stripped one another of several articles of clothing, revealing glorious hosiery underneath.  It’s sometimes annoying when want to talk to me and want to tell me about their pathetic lives and ask my for worthless opinion on things and they’re too goddamn stupid to see that I don’t like them and don’t care about them and wish they would just leave me alone.  The world of comedy seems very sad and insular.  Maybe I just see everything as sad and insular because I’m a very sad, angry and hateful person.