it was beer'o'clock an hour and a half ago. it's chilly and I'm alone, with stevie wonder. and the cats. can't forget the cats. my hands keep shittin' out on me. I walked into the corner store and got some shit (substances) and realized, it's sunday morning. newspaper. crossword
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no job. lots of shouting. california. nyc. home. busted car. busted life. lots of shouting. finally job. kitchen staff: two ladies, all dudes. lots of shouting. king cobra. bugler. lots of shouting. friends leaving. future drunkeness.
I broke the hot tub? walking into my haus drunk/high in the MIDDLE OF THE STREET and erik comes out to tell me that there is a lighter lodged in the pump of his hot tub...I wonder how expensive this is and if I get to stay...>;_:I done fucked up good
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I eat cayenne pepper like it's my job. I keep sneezing and I feeeeeel reallllly laaaaaarge. it was a great sandwich; avocado, red pepper, sweet pepper, tomato, cucumber, romaine, havarti dill, hot mustard TOASTED. whoa
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so, I have this curious tendency to get [blackout] drunk and fuck everything up. I've got bruises on my arms, ribs, and legs. my knees are scabbed. sweet? sometimes
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