#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
I had to take a shit but instead I went into this shop to have a key made. the woman was dressed
dying for a beer dying for and of life on a windy afternoon in Hollywood listening to symphony music from m… on the floor.
One Sunday Jimmy talked me into going to the beach with him. He wanted to go swimming. I didn’t want to he seen wearing swimming trunks because my hack was covered with boils and scars....
wha’, what did you expect? a schoo… some more practical lover filling… I’m a fool and no gentleman: I wa… with Crane in pajamas, but suicide… there’s less and less to kill.
very tall girl lifts her nose at m… outside a supermarket as if I were a walking garbage can; and I had no desire for her, no more desire
I read a book about John Dos Pas… the book once radical—communist John ended up in the Hollywood Hi… and reading the Wall Street Journal
it is not very good to not get through whether it’s the wall the human mind
John F. Kennedy flower knocks upo… shot through the neck; the gladiolas gather by the dozens… India dripping into Ceylon;
my father always said, “early to b… early to rise makes a man healthy,… and wise.” it was lights out at 8 p.m. in our… and we were up at dawn to the smel…
used to drive those trucks so hard and for so long that my right foot would go dead from pushing down on the accelerator.
I saw a vacancy sign in the window in front of a rooming-house, had the cabby pull up. I paid him and walked up on the front porch, rang the bell. I had one black eye from the fight, an...
I blacked out after that. I guess I had consumed more whiskey than I thought. I don’t remember arriving at Nicole’s. I awakened in the morning with my back to somebody in a strange bed....
Within a day or two, about 1 pm in the afternoon there was a knock at my door. It was a painter, Monty Riff, or so he informed me. He also told me that I used to get drunk with him when...
no way back to Barcelona. the green soldiers have invaded th… madmen rule Spain and during a heat wave in 1952 I b… no way back to the Rock of Gibral…
I suppose it’s raining in some Sp… while I’m feeling bad like this; I’d like to think so now.