Somebody...

    I was so comfortable this morning I couldn't get up... It wasn't happening. I was looking at the ceiling of a for sign but nothing appeared.

    Then I thought to myself... Every time I'm asked for my age on an internet site or message board when I register the year stays the same but time never looks back.  I'm getting old.  I remember modems.... 1986 was equivalent to 14.  Now its 22.  Funny.

    Then I thought I really need to shave.  This was followed by... I need to go to storage and get some clothes... Then  I wonder what is going on around the world, and finally how irked I was that I got mustard on my white shorts.

 Pow

    I'm wrapping up Bukowski's Women and I'm excited to see how the novel ends.  The tone and style of the book aren't your typical narrative and the possibilities for the end game are driving me mad.  I've restrained myself from reading the last five pages.  I need a resolution or do I?

"Just living until you die is hard work."