Tuesday, August 07, 2007

The Suffering of Job

It's extremely fucking hot and sweaty -- 35 c during the day. I'm having insane attacks of sinusitis, which send me penduluming back and forth between being completely unable to breath through my nose or having rivers of warm snot running down my face.

It feels like I haven't slept in about two weeks. Last Friday we got so drunk at the nightclub I ended up peeing in the sink because there was a long line at the bathroom, and I really had to go. They kicked me out, albeit regretfully -- kind of like the last scene in THE GODFATHER when they kill Sal. "You think you could get me off the hook? For old time's sake?" "Can't do it, Sal."

(Peeing in the sink is the single most antisocial act short of committing an actual crime, I suppose. Yet most guys have probably done it at some point. But it's the unspoken tabboo, of course.)

My neck is killing me; I slept on it badly. Or rather, tossed and turned on it badly.

To top it all off, I find I am still able to get upset over a girl.

Yeah, I know, I'm shocked too. But that's probably a good thing actually, that last one. It indicates I'm still alive. . .

8 comments:

Jason said...

i think we're all glad you still have a heart, mr. lion.

Anonymous said...

Pissing in the sink would be a show of "buenos costumbres" here in Chile where people wip it out and slather busses, houses, elevators - unconcious homeless - whatever, at any time of the day. You should have found a dark corner and pissed in an empty bottle and left it at the bar - Do they sell beer by the litre in Russia?

Gap Kid said...

Imagine the scene; A sad, lonely, lumpen old malformed dwarf sits at a computer screen in Oakland, California. He puts on his 'X' hat, grabs his eigth beer of the morning and begins to tap away at the keys.

"What tall tale shall I tell today?" He thinks, the sheer effort causing him to sweat out the greased chicken's feet and chilli from the previous night.

His thick, stunted fingers hammer away feverishley at they keys. He can almost see the pneumatic, slaven little whores in front of his eyes.

Then, just as he is about to shoot his stunted little wad over the cheap, dime-store keyboard and monitor, his Mother walks in the room.

Anonymous said...

Well X, they say you know you have arrived when you have had a stalker. This Gap kid homo sure does have a fixation.

Anonymous said...

As far as the neck pain goes, could it be the result of sleeping on a lumpy Russian bed with a lumpy Russian pillow?

Anonymous said...

Or sleeping on a lumpy Russian girl, perhaps?

Anonymous said...

Wasn't it the tin man that didn't have a heart, anyway?

Jason said...

haha, I think you're right! I was going to call him the Wicked Witch of the East but didn't want to get bitchy!