its cold here in LA.

my pal amy says its gonna be 77 in NYC today, so let me ax you, how is that fair?

my ass had to unfurl the electric blanket last night. i also had to put the mexican blanket where the door should be that would connect the living room with the kitchen, then i had to put on the space heater.

all so i could not write my sex novel.

it was that cold, america.

today is novembrrrr third. ive only writen four pages of my thing. and i have to fight crime today. and i have to go see my favorite band tonight, and this mysterious chick who i dont know at all wants to find out if she should be a sex phone operator girl on me after the show.

i gave her my home number.

i dont know why i did that.

karisa does it all the time and somehow the crazies dont bother her too much. speaking of karisa, she called me last night from western mass, from the house that she grew up in, from the room where she lived as a kid. how cute.

sadly i couldnt talk to her because i was on the phone with my buddy solomon who was fixing my computer for me via pc anywhere and my cell phone. it was classic. it was creepy. it was wonderful.

it was the year two thousand. finally.

anyway, now its still cold in LA, and colder in the offices of the xbi. i can finally fly my chopper thanks to the fires being out, but i still have a lot of paper work to do since everyone basically took last week off to help volunteer and keep the looting to a minimum.

so i have my blogger hoodie on like the homeless guy (pictured), and i have my apple juice, and my high speed internet.

and i have you.

thanks for being there, whoever you are.

all of who you are.

especially those who have been there for a long long time.

its been a fun ride so far and this shit hasnt even truly zoomed off into the stratosphere where it will be soon.

hendrix had to play bass in little richards band for a while.

eveyone has to pay their dues.

the homeless guy + eric case + kimbalina

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