Marc
It was the modern stigmata. And doctors sponsored by the tabloids were studying her. And Miles wanted to title the film, if he could put it together, nice and simple -- Normal, Illinois. -- from Underworld by Don DeLillo.
One. Finally, some work came my way. Next week I fly to Atlanta (Hotlanta?) and will drive all around the South setting up training rooms. Last year around this time I flew to Atlanta, though I was mostly tearing down training rooms. My how things have changed. It mainly comes as a big relief, though. I needed something to do, and even though this may be a one week gig for the time being, I'm glad to have it. No more video stores. I pledged to myself a few years ago that I was done with video stores, and I'll be damned if I ended up lying to myself on that day. So, if you're in Atlanta and you want to show me where Jermaine Dupuis or Andre3000 hangs out, drop me a line, and we'll maybe party. Maybe.
Two. Until then, just as with the past few days, it's been all about being bored and drinking until the wee hours of the morning with my pal Jeff. You may remember him from many posts last year as Roomy Jeff. We've alternated apartments, played Monopoly, and drank tons of Keystones and Buds during the past four days or so. And who can blame us, really? At least he's been working during the days and evenings, which hasn't been the case with me.
Three. What have I been doing during the days, mostly? Driving my roommate back and forth to the doctor's office. Weird migraines and somethings whacked out on her eyes, and she's been feeling pretty down in the dumps lately. So I stay in with her and watch movies, and I read in reception areas, and today I even got to go back and watch her get some blood drawn for testing. She lied to me and told me that it would take about ten minutes for them to find a vein to squeeze some from, but it only took more like ten seconds. Worst blood-drawing ever. I wanted to see some poking and gouging, but all I got was a poke. No gouge?
Four. So, now it's off to reading again. I'm halfway through Underworld, and I can't describe it and I have no idea what the point is yet. And that's the way I like it.
Up Next: The Essential Clash by the Clash; The Clash (US Version) by the Clash; and, London Calling by the Clash.
Tomorrow: Waking. Sleeping.
It was the modern stigmata. And doctors sponsored by the tabloids were studying her. And Miles wanted to title the film, if he could put it together, nice and simple -- Normal, Illinois. -- from Underworld by Don DeLillo.
One. Finally, some work came my way. Next week I fly to Atlanta (Hotlanta?) and will drive all around the South setting up training rooms. Last year around this time I flew to Atlanta, though I was mostly tearing down training rooms. My how things have changed. It mainly comes as a big relief, though. I needed something to do, and even though this may be a one week gig for the time being, I'm glad to have it. No more video stores. I pledged to myself a few years ago that I was done with video stores, and I'll be damned if I ended up lying to myself on that day. So, if you're in Atlanta and you want to show me where Jermaine Dupuis or Andre3000 hangs out, drop me a line, and we'll maybe party. Maybe.
Two. Until then, just as with the past few days, it's been all about being bored and drinking until the wee hours of the morning with my pal Jeff. You may remember him from many posts last year as Roomy Jeff. We've alternated apartments, played Monopoly, and drank tons of Keystones and Buds during the past four days or so. And who can blame us, really? At least he's been working during the days and evenings, which hasn't been the case with me.
Three. What have I been doing during the days, mostly? Driving my roommate back and forth to the doctor's office. Weird migraines and somethings whacked out on her eyes, and she's been feeling pretty down in the dumps lately. So I stay in with her and watch movies, and I read in reception areas, and today I even got to go back and watch her get some blood drawn for testing. She lied to me and told me that it would take about ten minutes for them to find a vein to squeeze some from, but it only took more like ten seconds. Worst blood-drawing ever. I wanted to see some poking and gouging, but all I got was a poke. No gouge?
Four. So, now it's off to reading again. I'm halfway through Underworld, and I can't describe it and I have no idea what the point is yet. And that's the way I like it.
Up Next: The Essential Clash by the Clash; The Clash (US Version) by the Clash; and, London Calling by the Clash.
Tomorrow: Waking. Sleeping.
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