My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

back off, your breath smells like my balls on a bad day. So I haven’t written. Sorry. It’s bill time, end of the month, rent baby. Time to make it. Got some one day job building a photo set in an old hotel. Blue walls, blue floor. 15 hours on the job, gonna be the cover of wired magazine next month, the founder of youtube will be smashing tv’s with a red handled sledge hammer.

Thanks to me.

so they threw me a hundred seventy five bucks. i don’t want to break it down to hourly, because it is way below my rate. But i got these bragging rights.

Spilled a cup of coffee on my camera, so that doesn’t work anymore.

taught my first creative writing class to a handful of vets (war vets) who are living in a group home to get them off the drugs, off the sauce, off the streets. All kinds of vets, men, women, black, grey, jaundiced, sad sad blue, worn out red rimmed eyes, stumps still leaking ten years later. “Most of our clients are dual diagnosed, substance abuse and mental problems.” So the director informs me. “Watch out for graphic imagery, it may trigger a response.”

So the vets file in with tattoos and gold chains, or overweight with polo shirts, “I was hit by a car and this is what’s left” says one guy, he is hobbling and growing hair on his nose. They come with dorritoes and cokes from the machine in the laundry room right down the hall from our classroom.

So back off, I’m busy, plus I’ve been drinking, which is important to me. Just last night I sat around with some guys, we’re old and drinking is part of who we are now. Life without booze would be life without a limb. It happens to people, and they adjust, but who wishes that on himself?

There’s been drinking, and some weed, and a few lines of cocaine before Briar’s first birthday. Needed to be able to talk to strangers…

A week goes by pretty quick when you’re busy.