Being a drunk makes your life high adventure. Stumbling down the street trying to get home. Trying to get up the stairs. Waking up hung over willing your fingers to log on and pay a bill before the power gets shut off. Not knowing if you’ll make it. Waking up next to a human form not knowing- monster, murderer, beautiful nice lady, did I fuck her, did I use a condom, could I even get hard, did I get her pregnant. Will she accuse me of rape. Being a drunk gives your life stakes. Being drunk makes your life a TV show, the Twilight Zone, is she my sister, is she the cholo neighbor’s girlfriend, is she my landlord’s underage niece. Did I piss the bed.
I like getting older. I stand in the yard with my hose. Horses walk by. Birds singing. I still don’t know all of them. The dog waits for me in bed. The nights finally get cold. She stretches out against my back. Susannah takes me to parties, young people. Another country. A city where I used to live and like all old people I say it fell to shit. I don’t know how these young men do it. Tough out there- but I wrote down what it was like when I was young. It was tough then too. It was the worst it ever was, we had it so hard. How do young men do it- how did I do it. I stayed alive till it got better. Till the things that made me mad subsided by me doing nothing. By just staying alive. Not drinking, eating vegetables. Stretching before activity. Problems went away. I stood by the banks of the river. And they floated by.
Don’t be the guy. A lot of people out there saying someone’s gotta DO SOMETHING. About the left the right Zionists Hamas blacks whites troons Nazis etc. etc. etc. Don’t let it be you. You are gonna live a long life. A nice house. A nice dog. Not end up cold and alone in the woods on the run from big men putting knees on your neck. With everyone who said someone’s gotta do something saying you’re a piece of shit cuz you did something. Someone’s gotta do something. Never them. So not you. Live a long life.
Every Father’s Day I wake up unhappy. Stay unhappy all day. Don’t know why. And remember it’s Father’s Day and my father is dead. He had a pretty long great life. He left behind a loving family, I talk to my brothers just about every day.
We saw it coming. He got cancer. He was given six months to live and he lived 15 more years. He came out to stay with me. Got to see my place, meet my friends. I got to say goodbye to him before he died. I’m still sad he’s dead. I’m sitting here in a coffee shop and I half want to cry typing about him. But they’re playing EDM.
Walking in despair to the burrito stand thinking Susannah was mad at me, thinking she was leaving me. Thinking I should call her but the cars going by were too loud. Thinking: if it’s God’s will that I should have a job and no girlfriend, I will defy God’s will. Thinking: I will work to destroy the faith of as many people as I can.
After my dad died my friend from AA invited me to climb Mexico’s tallest volcano. I said yes. I thought: not only will this be cool, but I can scatter Dad’s ashes up there.
I was picturing a warm volcano in the jungle. Parrots and palm trees. Something Aztecs and Mayans might have thrown people into.
My buddy called me. I’m going to check on the house and I need someone to come with me, he said. His house is in Altadena, in the hills on the edge of the Eaton Fire. Did his neighborhood burn, is it still burning. Nobody knows. There are Facebook groups with people’s videos of their houses burning blocks away. Nothing on his street.
I say yes, I’ll drive. I figure if it’s bad we’ll get turned back. And I want to help the guy. But really I want to see it. Destruction all over the news, it’s covered in smoke and ashes where I live. He took his wife and kid to a hotel. He left two cars up there and his wife’s clothes, and the last stuff from his mom’s house after she died. But driving up the 110 he tells me: I just want to see it. I want to see the fire.Continue reading →
Your AI girlfriend will be free. Or if she has a body it’ll be sold to you at cost. Your AI girlfriend will be a loss leader.
Your AI girlfriend will be free to play with microtransactions. Your AI girlfriend will have a brain that takes up 15 nuclear power plants studying your biometrics to minimize your reason. Maximize your lust and desperation. Your AI girlfriend will be a 20,000 IQ hooker making you a whale for her pimp. Continue reading →
I woke up at 2:22AM. She hadn’t come home. And I thought about her getting arrested. Or killed by a drunk driver. Hacked up and murdered. Gang raped.
Murdered by cholo gangsters. Murdered and carjacked. And I thought about how I’d get revenge. A drone with a bomb hovering over the cholo family barbecue. Shrapnel bomb shredding the gangbangers and their abuelas.
Meeting the perpetrator in jail for one of those spiritual forgiveness meetings. But then sliding his child’s finger across the table.Continue reading →
Reminder, I’m posting all new material on Substack so I can make money. I also have a terrible podcast there.
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We got this fancy pork from a pig farm we visited. Wooly pigs. The breeding boar’s as big as a polar bear and the farmer, about 70, an old school California white guy who used to dive for sea urchins for a living, throws him apricots so he’ll come up to the fence. His hairs are thick as pencils. His breath sounds like a whale breathing. He’s caked in mud and clay, and you can pet him. And the farmer says to smell your hands afterward. It smells like nothing. They don’t sweat, the farmer explains.Continue reading →
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