Monday, November 19, 2007
Woke up this morning, foggy in the brain, lying out in the backyard, an empty bottle of Bushmills beside me, head resting on a tattered copy of Ulysses. Damn good night despite the hangover and the onset of pneumonia. Realized, niney niney nondoors, flying to Edmonton on Friday morning. Good on ya. Never been. Should be fun. Have to pack. Going to Whyte Avenue? Can't bring a knife on the plane. Thats ok, buy one at Edmonton Airport. Be prepared, just like the Boy Scouts. Not Lowe though. Lowe though. Heh.
Scritch scritch scritch. Fleas? No. Maybe crabs. Unfortunate. How to explain to Molly? Come up with something. Must get gift for Grabia. Famous now. Maybe too big a wig? We'll see. Porn is always nice. Gladheateher. Splendour In The Ass. Schindler's Fist. His birthday too. Maybe a hooker? Booze. Cigarettes. Too easy. No mention from Staples. Maybe good. No danger of lawsuits if nobody reads. Get back to the roots - gay porn, nonsensical ramblings. My niche. Masturbation and so on. Can't beat it.
Heh. Funny guy. Gift for Grabia. What to do? Cosh said he needs a pair. I haven't any to give ever since that vet appointment. Didn't see that coming. Have to remember - revenge against the guy with the mustache. See how he likes it. No balls. Prime of life. That's no fair. Smother him with a pillow maybe. No thumbs though. Maybe a problem. Still not fair. Hard to lick balls when there are no balls. Phantom pleasure I think.
Gift gift gift. Coat made from sacamano's back hair? Big. Warm. Red. Maybe itchy? Don't know. Think on it.
Drink before the flight. Hate flying. Remember not to shit myself from fear of flying. Andy won't let me into his car.
Hope people in Edmonton have heard the saying "Give The Dog A Bone"; if so might not come back. Probably will - not too good to leave it all behind. No midlife crisis here. No sir. Nope.
Posted by Black Dog at 2:08 PM