i am hurt, i am hurting, but it’s ok

white onlymy fingers, my wrists, even my back is all

notice us, notice us, notice us.

i put icy hot on my hands and arms, i have these great elastic sleeves i put on my arms

but i lost one because im a slob.

so i just alternate the one back and forth like a hobo.

it only hurts when i drive which is sad because as you know i love driving.

maybe i need a back support dealie. maybe i need under armour. maybe i need new arms.

my cigarette lighter doesnt work any more. youd think the cigarette lighter in a mercedes would never break. its the thing that charges my cell phone as im driving.

gas prices here in LA are at record highs.

basically the entire universe is telling me not to drive but who’s going to be keira-anne’s tour guide.

i can tour guide for tops three days a year and then i get burned out.

on paper i could write the most amazing tour book about LA but not only dont i want to but it would be bizarre, filled mostly with various fast food establishments

places to buy bukowski books

and every movie theater and former record store in town.

fine, i’ll write it.