1. Sunday, August 29, 2004

    im procrastinating the dumbest thing. 

    blook II.

    some people have no problem going back at what they write and editing it and thinking about how smart they were way back when, but not me.

    it is such a painful process you have no idea.

    i know i talk about myself and my life in this, my journal, but i dont go back and read. i just write more. and hopefully in better ways.

    before my vacation, which is now about to expire, i printed out the 150 pages that sepi so dilligently put together for me about 9 months ago. the plan was to go through each entry and give it a grade.

    only the ones that got A- or better would get into this new book.

    in a week i have probably read a total of 20 entries.

    its so sad.

    not because i hate them, i just hate ME. hate is a strong word. its just so dull. the past. all these stories about anna and ashley and the others. i see where i disguised the names of some of the ladies who ive never named and its just so

    ugh.

    what i need is the help of karisa j.

    or someone. but hopefully her.

    i need her help with this.

    i want to put out this book before the world series so that chadly j chicken will get off my back.

    but also because i seriously think that i could publish it somewheres.

    no offense to the others who have written books about blogging, but

    none of them have the busblog.

    none.

    and i hate myself.

    old flame from long ago called me this morn to ask me if i wanted to go to church.

    this was one of the wildest girls ive ever known.

    when she invited me to church of all places i thought she was gonna tell me that she was a nun, cuz you know, sometimes people do that.

    she said she just wanted some spirtuality in her life and i was all, why dont you come over and we’ll read from the bible.

    she said if she came over we would never get to the bible

    and i was all, im the luckiest man ever.

    until she told me she was married.

    to a man who barely touched her any more.

    only a year and a half have they been together but their “schedules” didnt line up right since hes a commerical airline pilot and shes semifamous.

    i was all, baby, even if i wanted to you wouldnt have let me say no to anything less than three times a day, whats up with your man?

    she said, its just different tony, and only women say those things.

    this is the woman who dared me to spank her hard.

    bent over with the heels of her stillettos sparkling in the glow from her tv which was always on and why i really loved her.

    i hit her as hard as i could and she said mmmmm do it again.

    that girl.

    she said tony we barely do it three times a week now.

    how could all this sweet fruit just ripen and waste on the vine.

    i know how, but how can these intellegent women just let it waste there, as if youth lasts forever. as if breaking is hard to do. as if the second you like someone you have to make them your boyfriend or husbland.

    so we sighed on the phone and she asked me what i was up to and i said

    procrastinating.

    cuz i like to let my shit ripen and mildew in the shadows of the fruit tree too.

    and now tomorrow i have to go to fucking work like the tool ive become.

    and this post definately would not have gotten even a B.

    blair in nyc + bukkake in boston + flagrant is somewhere but i never know where