#68

lets take this love back to my top bunk but you gotta be careful when we get there not to hit your head on the ceiling so its like love in confined quarters which might be perfect for what we have cuz we dont really want this love to stand up and wiggle around or embrace the space or even to get out of the room or even this time so what im saying is maybe we should set a time when its gonna be all over so no one has to feel awkward in the morning and no one feels obligated to go out to breakfast cuz i mean the train is just two blocks from my place and you know as well as i do that youd get a lot more rest sleeping in your own bed at home than you would sleeping next to me three feet from the ceiling in a single bed forced to spoon all night from lack of room and who knows if my roommate is gonna come back cuz i mean usually he doesnt but i cant really make any guarantees just because i cant read his mind but i think we should definitely get out of this place in like five minutes because i am absolutely dying for you but first i gotta use the pisser cuz i cant make the walk home with out peeing myself so stick right here for a second okay

#67

james is in goddam slovenia right now on free internet chatting with me over a two dollar beer and if i could reach him i would punch him in the ear because im stuck here in los angeles in my bedroom while hes out raising international hell with eastern european girls and im jealous as a motherfucker but shit if i aint ready to bust outta this damn country for a year and see if i cant survive on nothing but a prayer and dumpster food plus a little odd job here or there until i see the whole world from the gutter and write it down or photograph it or make it into a mad movie with an intercontinental hellfire soul of pure beauty and damn james im buying a ticket right now to come get a beer cuz i aint got no pressing business around here with short films here and scripts and tv pitches there and studios and bullshit and a dumpster full of dipshit peach tree cloudy pissy ass cotton candy impotent clown cunt fuck ass jibba jabba who gives a flying queef about yer lousy stories and i dont wan to hear them and i dont want to live those stories cuz i wanna get out there and live a story no one has even dreamed about before cuz im young and i give a shit

#66

the mutineer on the boat was talking revolution but nobody on the crew never paid him no mind cuz a mutineer without support is just a nut with arms and legs and big hairy seamen dont like crazy fools so i suppose manny the mutineer aint gonna be with us for too much longer cuz the other guys on board are gonna throw him overboard and as usual it will be my duty to write a song or a poem about the dumb motherfucker and give a eulogy while all the pig beasts gather around and pretend they know how sublime the fragility of human life is as i use words like power and flaw and grief and pride and their eyes start poopin out of their greasy skulls and wriggle around on the deck for a moment before they grow little veiny appendages and start walking over to me beggin me to look down but i refuse and continue on with my lament because the feeling of an eyeball on your salty raw ankle is enough eye contact for any man of words to bear in a single lifetime and i dare not stare into the pigs oozin sockets for fear of seeing their wicked minds and finding myself to be even one of their thoughts

#65

in theory the farmers market is cheap but then you go there and all the delicious foods make you spend all your money and you find yourself standing in line at the atm so you can get just one more pupusa and a half pound of okra but on the way to the okra stand you end up listening to a trio of hippies sing really bad harmonies and if youre not careful youll end up spending five bucks to buy their cassette tape that you will never listen to but who cares because the farmers market is all about supporting local businesses and local artists so you dont have to buy bell peppers shipped all the way from china and you dont have to worry about how your tangerines from new zealand look so fuckin fresh even after theyve been shipped ten thousand miles cuz instead you got some delicious okra you can cook up the same day it was picked and smell that okra frying in the pan and savor the slimy okra texture and the only thing that sucks is that the okra is always gone too quick and you wind up regretting that you didnt get a whole pound instead of a half and you find yourself naked on the kitchen floor covered in grease and crying cuz you aint got no more okra

#64

woke up this morning with a king hell headache from floating too long on knob creek last night and smoking an unusual amount of cigarettes until we hit the clown room and threw our money down on the stage in an effort to get the girls over to our side to give us a better view because everybody knows that strip clubs are fully gratifying and after you leave you feel very satisfied with yourself and the way you spent your evening or even better your afternoon because there truly is nothing better than having a dozen buffalo wings while a forty year old asshole hovers just inches from your nose and then stepping back out into the blinding sunlight and stifling heat and then just sort of going along with your day at work or shopping or whatever activity you have chosen to inject a little paid nudity into and any activity is fine because the strip joints are conveniently located pretty much everywhere across america near your malls or movie theaters and some are even really near apartment complexes so you can just walk there everyday or whenever youre feeling down and you need a little pick me up

#63

the architecture at nickelodeon animation studios is neato with silly cartoon stairs and four tv sets stacked on top of each other all playing the same show and on the crazy purple counter in the break room sits a coffee machine that grinds your beans when you press a button so you have the freshest coffee possible and you can enjoy it as you walk down the green carpet that goes right up on to the wall and up to the ceiling past original concept sketches of famous cartoon characters like spongebob and ni hao something or other or maybe you wont notice the artwork for the slightly pudgy but still gorgeous latina receptionist at the amorphous front desk asking if she can help or please hold she might be saying into the little microphone on her headset and if you are the brave type and you dont care about making a fool of yourself in public you can jump onto the giant orange pillow shaped like a splat for lack of a better term and stare at the exposed white rafters on the ceiling and think about how cool all this neat and silly architecture is and its like living in a fantasy land for real and how wonderful until you think about how much money this whole place costs and you throw up leaving a cheap little vomit splat on their big expensive orange one

#62

nuthole blow fucking payroll company numb nad production company satan ass bitch of a purchase order horny pony boner slut in a nickelodeon slime bukkake frontal nudity on my moleskin notebook balls in your pretty little hollywood blvd slamdance anal hornblower on the high seas of american chest crapping unicorn dildo high rise genghis khan looking motherfucker in his trailer sucking off his brother epson printer newest version of your furry muff and pubes in my battlestar galactica rusty trombone donkey punch on pay per view like cum in my coke products stirred with a long hard cock with veins and weird bumps all along the time warner logo penetrating downtown or brown town with a rump shakin in your eye of the tiger tail feathers make me wanna ooh ooh baby pedophilia on deal or no deal with the sexual abuse like it didnt happen with a dick in your eye socket massaging your visual cortex like doo doo on your chest cuz you da scat man on top and woman on bottom up you fine looking santa claus i like universal gang bang in houston with the oil on your big ass rubbed up and down so it shines like dairy queen in the facial cumshot with orange julius

#61

i asked my mentor to write me a letter of recommendation and he said he would be glad to but actually he is so busy that it would be better if i would write a letter on his behalf and he would be glad to sign it whatever it was so when i got past the initial feelings of unethicality i got down to business and wrote the thing having a lot of fun doing it because its not often you get to praise yourself with someone elses voice and you should have seen the things he wrote about me because you would have though i was an angel and a superman all rolled up in one because i was handsome and smart and dependable and a creative genius and the best colleague and friend he could ever ask for and he told these brilliant little anecdotes about how we had met and how i had exceeded all expectations when he hired me on as an employee and had asked to do more work and excelled at everything i put my hands on and in no time i rose all the way to through the ranks as the youngest producer he had ever worked with so he would strongly recommend me for the position and by the end of the letter i was feeling pretty good about myself because i imagined my mentor really saying all these things and it not being just forgery

#60

yesterday the director from south africa said she could never live in los angeles because there is such a sense of desperation in the way people act and it was the first time i had ever heard that term desperation used so powerfully and so realistic and so so sad and i think the reason it hit me so hard is because it is so true and it is the one word i have been looking for since i moved here to describe my surroundings and now that ive heard this word used in this context it controls my brain as i scoot around the city looking out windows and seeing nothing but desperation in hollywood burbank down to marina del rey and listening to people talk hearing desperation in every little inflection of midwestern accents and shaking hands with schmoozers trying to make connections i feel the almost unnoticeable needles of desperation sticking into my skin and i look down at my hand to see blood running out of my palm and down my arm and i have no cloth to stop it with and no bandage so i am forced to lick my wound so the blood doesnt get everywhere and all over me but as soon as the blood hits my lips my muscles freeze like ive been poisoned and it takes half a second to realize i froze up because i tasted desperation in my blood

#59

live at the carwash the car washers perform great immigrant feats with prime mexican speed and hands and cloths moving furiously as their tongues struggle to keep up with a language so hot you gotta spit it out before it burns you like a habanero salsa in tijuana which the sign says is the most visited place in the world because all you find there is a bunch of drunk eighteen year olds from san diego and a bunch of mexican dudes who wish they were working in a carwash across the border instead of trying to sell some underage idiot a bottle of absinthe and some poison blow darts to shoot at the donkey painted like a zebra and trying to convince the slightly damaged frat type to pay a hundred bucks to see a girl getting fucked by a donkey in some flea bag hotel a couple miles away from revolucion and all you gotta do is follow me in the cab and give me the dinero now my friend so i can run away with it and not have to jerk you around about this donkey show that doesnt exist and leave you out here on the edge of the desert where you can dream american and wish you could be somewhere cleaner than mexico like a carwash

#58

im only twenty three and i can hardly find my art for my business but there was a brief moment last night at the awards ceremony when j depp stepped out on stage to make a surprise appearance and i felt my art sneep back into my blood as he stepped into the room and it was electricity all over everyone because he is mystique and he lives in paris or something with a couple supermodels and philosophers lounging around in a salon drinking absinthe and smoking unfiltered cigarettes which brings me to the fact that im coming to paris to solidify my art in an attempt to destroy my business once and for all because im sick of the schedule life with time restrictions and hours of operation and weekly paychecks but most of all i just want my old art self who says fuck the man to viacom and matsushita and awards ceremonies but not to sweet j depp who has more money than bette middler because depp is either an artist who got thrown into some of the best movies ever that just happened to be big studio movies or is the consummate andy kaufman type actor who plays a great artist and in this town who knows

#57

sitting in an airport in sacramento with a queasy uneasy feeling in my stomach from too much doubt and life and dissatisfaction and its about goddam time i change it up and do something about my personality which is not one that i like or would like to hang out with so i need to change and be the kind of friend that attracts friends and be the generous kind of chum ive always wanted to be because if not now when and ive got to spread my love to those people i really love and try to develop some new relationships because the last time i made a good friend was in new york which is too long ago and i should give aaron a call and start really inviting people out to do things because thats what it takes to be a real friend and my motto from now on is that i have to actively pursue friendships and be the guy that unites and that everybody knows because that is who ive always respected and always wanted to be because its the guy who always has a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye because being around people is its own reward and well worth the little effort it takes to get the ball rolling

#56

the older i get the more i appreciate home and the warmth i didnt even know was here when i lived here as a young soccer player and a guitarist playing in the most important games of my life and make it break it shows at taverns and garages and swimming and missile militia which busted my lip but now the homefire burns strong and i am aware of the warmth and the source of the warmth which makes the warmth all that warmer even though the house is a bit drafty and strange loud noises make it hard to get a good nights sleep but there is no reason not to feel safe even if robbers are running all around with guns because everything is always okay at home even after six months in jail mom will still love you although she may slap you on the wrist purty hard because one thing i know about moms is that they never actually hit you but the one hard look or the slap on the wrist hurts more than a broken jaw or a gunshot not that i know what either of those feel like but i feel i have a right to guess because i cant imagine a little gunshot being any worse than disappointing mama

#55

i ate a bagel with cream cheese when i wasnt even hungry and now i have no energy and i write in this journal to avoid more pressing writing tasks that will improve my future and secure a livable income but i promise myself after this page i will start once again working on the mob story and add in all the details necessary to write a ten page treatment which hopefully will not be the first thing i sell because i do not want to start my writing career as a crime drama writer and have to ruin myself trying to segue into comedy writing but the drama treatment should just show that i have the ability to conceptualize a drama in three act structure and can create interesting characters with interesting pasts revealed in a captivating way and i have so many ideas that i only have time to write the treatments instead of the entire play and then tyler and i will move on to the sitcom idea where we will develop overqualified and then write an episode of an existing show in hopes of finding steady work as a writer on a television sitcom where we or at least i can hone my comedy chops

#54

it wasnt until a few days ago that it really kicked in how hard it is to start something new after just having finished something big but now it is time to start writing the treatment for the mob corruption police immigration movie in which a man finds something out that he shouldnt have and commits a righteous murder in the name of good but has to scram and leave his family behind for fear of getting shot by the local bad guys and for fear of his familys safety he cannot be near them so he hides out in some strange place for fifteen years maybe in mexico and then comes back to seek his revenge on the wrongdoers but little does he know that his wife has unwittingly married his arch enemy and has even had a child with him so he takes his amigos and installs them as safety point runners in dozens of broken down donut shops and convenience stores across the city and establishes a guerrilla art of war style army on a grass roots level and attempts to take back over control of the city but gets thwarted by his enemy who is then killed by their wife

#53

half drunk and half buzzed and half remembering that movie called blow up with that half photographer who saw that half murder of that half a couple with half the motivation and half regret at the fact that i am only half productive and half worthless and writing half assedly another complet thought with a title only half there and half a remnant of a half formed idea tickling the right half of my brain but i dont half care because i dont have half the attitude it takes to write for a genuine half hour of half good words or a half good story with a half interesting hero with half meaningful motivations in a half crazy made up half world of half finished sentences and half formed words falling off my lips like drool into half a grilled cheese sandwich which i cooked at half past three am with half a bottle of olive oil leaving it half greasy sickening and half greasy satisfying though the cholesterol slowed my heart down to half speed throwing me into a half panic mainly because all this half shit is making me more than half mad and i want to have more than half of something because half aint shit to hold onto

#52

violently happy virus in my wires driving me to the brink of madness and then the antidote pushing me over the edge into a mass of wires and silicon that tangle me in the most terrifying ways and i cant imagine where all this came from and how i ended up here unable to maneuver of my own free will but taking perverse pleasure in manually cleaning all of the viruses off my hard drive but manual is such a misnomer when it comes to silicon because i cant actually take my hand and clean it off but rather i must drag my index finger over the track pad and then a little click with my thumb and then another little clicky poo and then i drag the exe file to the recycle bin and poof gone are all the little spywares and trojan horses just like that and i am safe and clean but i dont have any more viruses to delete manually which is my favorite part of the day so i go to disreputable sites and try to acquire some of those little buggers to satisfy my crime fighting instinct

#51

frightened by his increasing dependence on the network and network technology our hero tries to free himself from the web only to be sucked back in and ultimately find god in the machine after which he continues his strangely normal life not knowing whether he really came face to face with the man upstairs or just caught a quick glimpse of his own fucked up mind in which case he frightens himself to the point where he questions whether every move he makes is a delusion or reality but he eventually convinces himself that he has found normalcy again until the very end when he receives a vague hint from the machine that nothing that he has experienced has been a dream and he is the ambassador to the real god who has only now found a way to manifest himself in reality through technology and he is an enlightened christ figure who has a mission to enlighten the stubborn world or was it a new god altogether or something but i dont think so because its much better if there is only one god and he lives in ones and zeroes