Cheers.

People shit me.

(“No! Really???”)

I have just spent the last brain numbing 24 hours locked in my room reading.I should get up and do things but I can’t say that the thought of mingling with the masses is very appealing right now.What a horrible breed of animals we are.I make myself sick first and foremost so don’t get the idea that I am perched on some lofty outcrop of high self-esteem pissing on the unwashed mass all the while telling them that its raining.

Far from it.

I hate drunks.I hate people who cant handle their indulgences no matter what they are.From the gurning pill hounds to the useless food stained stoners.Fuck you all!!. Why cant Keef and Lemmy give master classes? I hate lack of self control in myself and I despise it in others.That brittle game show host  facade spewing endless shit and causing trouble.Bad breath streaming from big mouths that mix their ambition with their ability telling me that I don’t understand .Telling me that they are not drinking and then amending that to “I’ve only had a few but I am not drunk”

(*Hic*)

Can we say “Boring?” Can we say “Yawn?”……Can we say “Hmmm,it looks like a terminal case of Jamesbrownitis?”

Otherwise know as “Talkin’ loud ain’t sayin’ nothin”

If I can find my way out of this depression that I find myself mired in I am going to amass a large sum of money,go somewhere no one knows me and start again.

My lost love spirals with a badly tattooed Courtney-clone in the foot hills of hell spinning reckless in the Santa Ana winds and I worry about him still.Pathetic huh? Yeah,I know,I know….Just goes to show how little regard I hold myself in really doesn’t it? Why cant people go out with out drinking? Why am I so fucking pathetic at this point and surrounding myself with much of the same? The freezer is full of dead animal off-cuts and my house is no such thing.I miss my solitude and my garage.I am sick of people lying to me and I am sick of myself for still caring.I want to kill the fat cunt and her offspring in the apartment upstairs for stomping some kind of demented river-dance spectacular on hardwood floors directly above my chamber hourly,daily.

I fantasize about open firing into my ceiling with an AK-47.

Bunny needs a vacation and a street sweeper.

If you revert to what you ran from you die. Blood doesn’t mean jack shit.You have a choice if you can stop feeling sorry for yourself and bowing under peer pressure.You are self-made or you chain your future to a poison past.A lackluster enemy.The only pack I adhere to is any band that I am in.

My own company.My lack of contact.This restless anger that I cannot seem to harness.The bituminous spewing hatred that I thought I had under control.Ha! This bitterness that is so very fucking un-cute. I would let no one touch me.Fat people shouldn’t fuck.Its disgusting.I hate doing it when I am overweight.I feel like a jumping castle with a cunt.Humiliating. So I starve myself out,of affection and of food.Its not that much of a big deal.The only person I wanted to bump uglies with resides on the other side of the planet and as welfare doesn’t pay for airfares…..

Its always nice when you find yourself being right.I love being right.its one of the few pleasures that I have left.I told a friend how bad shit was when they asked and voila! I have not heard from them since.Maybe I should tell everyone.I mean,if its going to keep people away from me? Then its all good in my thin book.

What my lushes,motorheads and dragon chasers (Read: Drunks,Tweakers and Junkies) all forget when they are yelling at me,eyes blind,emotions scattered that I don’t understand is that I do.That I was there and I have the tee shirt to prove it.That all the bullshit excuses they spew at me in their cups I was handing to school counselors and shrinks before they had…aw forget it.It doesn’t matter.Not a pissing contest that I have any interest in getting involved in.Its the human condition  to think that we are all so special.Dogshit.Grist for the mill.I don’t have to talk to with you when you are loaded.You bore me to fucking tears,its not the you that I know,it has nothing to do with it.In fact,if I didn’t know you and if you came up to my velvet ropes on a Saturday night and sounded off at me like that?  I would smash your face in without a second thought.

I don’t know you when you are loaded.You don’t have to stop,I ain’t your mother.Just stay the fuck away from me.

I don’t have to pander to your shit.The older I get baby? Lord! You don’t wanna know….I have worked in bars my whole life and even sober have always been the 1st to buy the 1st round.Why? Because my little turtle doves,I am cool like that. But the domestic affray? Door slamming tantrum throwing followed by head ducking next day remorse? I am too old.I have seen it all before.I don’t push my sobriety on any man.Don’t push your drooling stupidity and raised voices on me.

I got my own fucking war and I never asked you to do a recon on my battlefield so kindly extend me the same courtesy.

I can tell you where I fucked up.I took drunken cries for help seriously instead of treating them as the liquor fueled self pity fests that they really are.

My bad.Wont happen again.

Miss E wants me to head out into the world to see her tonight.I should be making flower garlands and practicing for the show but if I spend another night locked in here with the the scent of microwaved pies filled with what smells like dog food permeating the house there is a pretty foxy chance that I will be a headline on CNN within forty eight hours.I need money.I need a compound.I need anger management and a month on the coast alone.

I better get my self respect intact before I decide to open fire in a mall.

Keep myself to myself.

Because Elvis only knows my little meerkats,when  F.Scott Fitzgerald’s shitty 3am comes down on you like an anvil ? You is pretty much all you have got.