Jezebel

I sit here writing you tonight with 6 teeth aching the living christ outa me and only 2 beers left and the landlord will want his $85, even tho once a week she or he will come down and get me and ask me to get drunk with them and so I'll get drunk with them, we'll talk, and then we'll sing corny songs, songs of their choice, and I'm glad to see them happy but they don't help my happiness much except that they drink and I drink and we sit there in their breakfast nook until Frances brings the kid and the kid cries and Frances says, "come home, come home!" so I come home, fuck it, and it's a beautiful little girl, tho, and I think she loves me. that's hell.
Charles Bukowski, September 7, 1965

Painting Studio

Massage therapy went well, the lady worked mainly on my butt, I guess the people who have called me a tight ass were right after all :)

Felt good afterward, so I rode my bike hard, looping the cemetery for 50 minutes, for a total of 70 minutes. I don't breathe hard when biking, no matter how fast I pedal, feels strange.

Tomorrow it is supposed to be in the 60's, time to go for a run and test my legs. Everyday this week I have felt stronger and getting back to normal. I attribute this to no running, so I will stop running at the first sign of anything abnormal. At least I can bike until exhaustion whenever the mood strikes.

Rachel called my bluff today. She realized I have no intentions of buying a digital camera, but rather, just continue using hers. Today I opened the desk drawer to retrieve the camera for my walk to work - nada, no camera - Rachel hid it from me :) Guess it's time to buy a camera.....

Oh well, lots of older pictures I can work with, not to mention film stills from YouTube :