Let's do more film today. Living color. It makes black and white photography seem so gray. It is expensive, though, if you shoot film. It has that going for it. And you never know what you are getting. It is always a surprise.
I have a confession to make here, in public. I feel I have let my fellow abstainer down. I didn't have a good day. It happens about every day or two now. I just feel pooped and a bit wobbly. So last night, after dinner, my stomach felt. . . well. . . bloated. So I had a digestif. I had a scotch.
Sorry, bro.
But I am right back on the wagon again. It was a medical necessity. My stomach settled right down. But I feel like a married man who just kissed another woman. Nothing more. Just a kiss. Still. . . .
As much as I enjoyed watching Don Draper, I couldn't. You will say, "Of course you couldn't. You don't look a thing like him." Ha! But that is not what I mean.
I'm just not built that way. So cheating with the drink last night dismays me.
I'm hoping I feel better today.
My state is set to become the new epicenter of corona. So they say. We are hellbent on it. Nationwide, cases are up, but deaths are down. That can only mean one thing--young people. As soon as we get rid of all the old people, AIDS victims, diabetics, asthmatics, etc, the world can get back to "normal." It is just natures way of population control. Wouldn't it be something, though, if it made you sterile? I wonder if young people would care? They don't mind killing grandpa, but I wonder if they would mind killing the unborn? I'm not sure how LGBTQ weighs in on this. I'll have to check with CNN.
But since we are going to host every major sporting and political event, and since we have opened up every kind of business, almost all to full capacity, I will probably be staying home a good while longer. I will become even more grumpy and cranky as I sit in the cave moping and weeping while everyone else goes out to party. I dwindle into nothingness.
So it seems, anyway. Without drink.
Having taken away one of my few pleasures, in the words of Dr. Thompson, what is left but endless hours of watching t.v. and relentless masturbation?
Bloody moon rising with a plague in the land where every worthless old fuck, con man, and criminal comes for a final spin on the red and black Ferris wheel before cashing in the chips.
ReplyDeleteYes, it is younger people accounting for the newest spike, but they will go home to Mama and Daddy and MeeMaw And PapPaw. There were bartenders, janitors, and cooks in the bars clubs in which the invincible youth were crowding, who will go home to children and family who will go on to churches and grocery stores and the stop and rob gas stations.
YeeHaw – it’s a scramble ride ride over heaps of shredded lung tissue and blackened kidneys Florida is a sick carnival and all the rides are broken.
I imagine this song playing on the revved up carousel whose horses are bucking the children off into the gears of the ride:
“I'd sell your heart to the junkman
Baby, for a buck, for a buck
If you're looking for someone to pull you out of that ditch
You're out of luck, you're out of luck
Digging up the dead with a shovel and a pick
It's a job, it's a job
Bloody moon rising with a plague and a flood
Join the mob, join the mob
It's all over, it's all over, it's all over.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oxLAT2U1bCc
Oh, the kids know what they are doing. They are speeding up inheritance. Their parents had all the fun, made all the money, took all the drugs, had all the sex, and worshipped all the gods. Now there is only depravity and pestilence and whatever mom and dad have in their accounts.
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