unthematic french casino
three months later…
Things are much the same! And yet, terribly, terribly different. Still fighting with my stupid fucking former friend about a cat. That shit is STUPID. I now hate all pets in addition to all people. Kidding! Kinda.
I moved…for non-hypberolically the 20th time in five years. It is muchmuchmuch closer to everything and as I set sail on a carless life, the convenience is wicked striking, yo. I have been walking through my neighborhood and it’s full of life - chickens, roosters, babychicks, maaaaad flora, cats n’kittens, kids and even an adorable puppy to chase me down the block. This is good.
CRAZILY I realized a house I almost moved into TWO YEARS AGO is right down the street from where I now live. This hypothetical home was owned by a man who was a 60-year-old late-to-the-party gay divorcee who was a set designer/director of an exotic animal rescue center. It was an upsettingly gorgeous house with an open room so shoebox-like you couldn’t even figure out where the creepocam had been installed!
Happily, all those hundreds of days ago I did not leap headlong into that burning bush.
It is looking to be one of those summers where I am pretty much broke, but also more self-reliant and less desperate to be out in the world. I am going to dive into a solitudinous pool of reading books, comics, watching ice-loads of movies, cooking and writing. Thank the good lord that I now live in a place with central A/C! It makes the walking everywhere until my ballsweet somehow drenches my entire body that much easier! Actually, it’s not that bad, but every time I think that I am still drenched in sweat.
I have been looking through my scribblesnotesideassometimesjournal thing in an attempt to contextualize recent history and just found an unbelievable quote: ‘Ball me! We’ll cock about it!’ which is right up there with ‘Is there a problem with me bein’ a mothafuckin’ alcoholic in this bitch!’ also from the same journal.
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