Fuck The Patriarchy — Where Are The Scissors?

My flight was at 6 Am. The first train to logan was at 530. I spent the night in the airport with Lorelei. I got in a wheelchair and was wheeled to my gate. I took a sleeping pill and woke up in LA at 11 AM. I went to the post office. I was expecting to retrieve my masters degree and a set of plates to a half dead BMW that sits in my parking lot irritating my neighbor with its stagnation. Neither were there.

I wanted to go shopping on Hollywood Blvd and get some stripper gear. But I went to the park, did some yoga, and went to visit neighbor Dave.

Neighbor Dave was in the very last stages of being evicted from a place that he has lived for the better part of 20 years. I lived next to him for a short time. He is one of my last remaining friends still living in Hollywood. It was sad to see that all his shit was packed and in the garage. He told me he was gonna stay with a friend but that he had no idea if he was moving to Portland, NYC, or gawd forbid … could he stay with me? Sure, I said, why the fuck not?

After a couple hours of drinking beer with ND a random tweeker showed up. Almost immediately thereafter a well put together blond woman, looked like she worked in an office — maybe for social services, came to the door. ND suggested that I kick it with the blonde woman and he was gonna go ‘do something’ with the tweeker. We went to the roof to admire the view and have a drink. I asked ‘so how do you know Dave’ and she looked at me in a curious way. “You don’t know?” she asked. “Nope, I have never heard of you” I told her. “He is moving in with me. I am his girlfriend” she told me. I looked puzzled. The last girlfriend I knew ND to have was Crazy Mary. Crazy Mary was a nutter. A sexy mid 40s stripper with long red hair and the sort of insane passion that went with the style of Neighbor Dave — bizarre, violent, artistic, fuck the man! This blonde woman didn’t seem to fit. I tried my best to put it all together. We went back into NDs unit and they started screaming at each other. I was ready to bounce. I had another friend I was planning on visiting across town. Blondie lived int he same area. She offered to give me a ride, so I went with her.

I don’t do screaming — sorry dave, I’m out!

We went to visit my old yoga buddy, who isn’t doing so well. We were there for five minutes. Her husband kind of freaked me out. We split. We drank a little more. Blondie probed me for details about Neighbor Dave. Apparently she had been his high school girlfriend and they only recently reconnected. I advised her not to let him take advantage of her. He is my friend but blondie didn’t seem to know that he is a scrub. He just never seems to give a shit. It is part of his charm, but I don’t want to see this nice person taken advantage of by my douchy loser friend.

Nothing personal if you are reading this ND, but yeah — you need to get a job or something. Rent is something you don’t fuck off after 20 years. Rent control is kooshy, homelessness sucks. Sorry that happened but get your shit together dude. Also, tell a person before your ‘girlfriend’ shows up. I would have been cool if I had known the score.

I went home with his girl and she introduced me to her cute as fuck, wicked ugly dog. It was one of the dogs that is so ugly and so strange looking that it should be in films. Strange looking little tilted head mother fucker. I was drunk. I slept on her couch. I don’t even remember her name. In the morning she even took me to the train station.

On the train I changed out of my jammies and prepared to meet up with my family. My mother picked me up in SandyEggo in a rental care with Massachusetts plates. I was trying to keep a low profile. There are a few people in that part of the world I would rather not point out my location to, not in the car, not in Northeast. How the fuck did my mother get a rental car with Mass plates? Gawd hates me, that is the only answer to this perplexing question. She looked at me like it was no thing and I pulled a flask out of my bag.

We were both ravenous from traveling so we had some massive Hash House breakfast. I was enamored by the ‘hangover cure’ on the menu. A Bud In A Bag, and A Side Of Bacon. I wanted it but I got something else. Something big with a tree of rosemary in it. And a drink that should have had more vodka in it.

We went on a family adventure that involved going DEEP into the suburbs to see some family members, and avoid some others. How we could expect to cruise up in a car with Mass plates and not be spotted was only a tad stressful. There was a lot of traffic. We stopped at the liquor store and got some nips. When we got the the event my daughter was dressed like a hooker. Wow. I wanted to say something but what could I say? Mini skirt and big ass red shoes. Wow. Whatever. Drink up. My mother screamed in the face of some coppers and I thought it was going to get us shot. She kicked back a mini bottle of Hennessy and we went into the massive theater / sports complex thing. It was a huge clusterfuck. Do we see who we are looking for? Can we avoid being seen by the fuckers we want to avoid? Drink.

I passed out for a few minutes or hours and a friend called, waking me up. We always try to go to the beach in the middle of the night when I am in town. His wife was bitching about something so he only had a few minutes. I got out of bed and took a beer to the beach. We said hello, had a hug and I went back to bed. In the morning TheFam and I ate some Hodads. Giant delicious burgers with Bacon and Beer. We waited in line for what seemed like an hour — in the sunshine.

Then we went to La Jolla to see see The Only Blond (TOB) I actually enjoy the company of and her Mike. I went to school with TOB and her Mike is a professor there. They are now happily living in La Jolla where she is getting a PhD and he has ditched his wife and the hundred cats they had. Beer drinking continued while we all talked about grad school, what the hell to do with the rest of ones life, and other shit. TOB started smoking. I thought that would be a good idea. I smoked — maybe one? maybe five? cigarettes. I don’t recall. In fact the last thing I recall was her Mike going to get some Glenlivit, us drinking some, him suggesting that we go to the beach, me thinking it was a great plan. I really really miss the pacific ocean.

So yeah, I said fuck yeah, lets go!

The trip to the ocean is a little foggy. I recall swimming in my granny panties and there was a giant fat mother fucking sea lion. Big ass bitch of a sea beast. I thought, in my drunken haze, ‘it’s so shiny, maybe it wants to be friends’ and I went swimming over to visit with it. Luckily I am loved and my family members do not want to see me devoured on the rocks of the La Jolla coast line by an enormous beast so I was stopped as I crept closer and closer to the lounging shiny fat thing.

But I was all wet and had been in the sunshine.

When we got back to TOB and her Mike’s place — I’m not really sure what happened then. I pretty much blacked out on the way back. I recall barfing into their toilet. I was gonna get int the shower but there were a bunch of clothes hainging in the shower — Hawaiian shirts from what I can grasp from my drunken splotchy memories of something red colored — did I take adderall while I was drunk? I can see that happening. I’m tired, I’ll take some speed. No wonder I got sick. Who knows. I blame the sunshine.

My offspring took me back to the car and my mother was sure they were not gonna let me on the plane. I barfed into an amazingly sturdy plastic bag in the back of the rental car with the conspicuous plates and we headed to the airport. After I was done barfing and we were in the parking area I put my jammies back on in the back of the car. I sat on my suitcase and got it to close. Apparently my knees buckled and I fell over at some point but I have no memory of this. I ended up in a wheelchair headed through security.

See you later lovely family. I’ll make the flight.

I offered to get out of my chair at security but the TSA folks were like ‘no no no, just stay in the chair.” And some nice people must have helped me get on that aircraft cause I made it to Philly shortly after the sun. I walked around 30th street station iso a mega bus to take me to NYC where I promptly regained my lust for the salivating menu item at the Hash House — bud in a bag with a side of bacon — I found a park bench and read a book I stole from robert about five years ago (and had with me as I was meaning to return it) while drinking a PBR in a bag with a straw, and eating a bacon sammie. It was a lovely grey almost raining day. I had a nice time in the park. No one bothered me or hit on me. I’m sure I looked and smelled like I belonged there with my beer and book. Hours passed and I went to a bougie place called Ghost for a couple of stellar cucumber margaritas, then on to the Red Umbrella Diaries where I read a story about pissing on people at gas stations.

Then I went with some nice folks from the event to have more drinks. Eventually I ended up with one person who told me she dressed up like a chicken and did live sex shows — we took a nap on the floor at penn station together. A copper woke us up and told up that sleeping and drinking beer were both against the law in this location. He didn’t take my beer so I just went to the Dunkin Donuts and got a donut to go with my beer while I waited for my train home.

The next morning I was back in New England and able to sleep in my own bed for five hours. Then I went to a strip club and danced, paid my phone bill, scurried in to pay my internet bill only to be told that I had already paid it three months in advance and then I came home to take another nap. When I work up this morning I thought it would be a good idea to cut off all my hair. Now I have a long red silky braid in a bag for sale.

The end.

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