Hind Tit

Rain is the only saving grace for the end of this week. What a motherfucker. Last night the alternator of my truck gave up the ghost while I was in transit to sword class. I puller over on the highway and just said "FUCK IT.", grabbed my longsword waster and my gym shoes and jogged the remaining mile-and-a-half to class. I was less than ten minutes late. I was quite proud of myself. I felt like a real trooper. I probably looked like a psycho running down the road with a big wooden sword in one hand and a pair of shoes in the other. "God DAYAM!! That nigga just robbed somebody's shoes off wit a sword and der he go!".

The day before that my uncle, only 13 years older than me, died at his home in Florida. Cause unknown. I'll be flying down there next week for the proceedings.

Next on the list of sorrow is my "raise". Two dollars more a day. Raise or bitch-slap? You make the call. Maybe now I can afford a Sunday paper to look for another job. Fucking pricks.

Last thing on the list that won't be checked off any time soon: poverty. I just got payed and ITS FUCKING GONE. Everything will get paid but, fuck, nothing left for just hangin' out a little.

Well like I said; at least it rained. Slick, neon reflections, the hissss of speeding tires on wet Riverside pavement, the sheer joy of knowing I can get a full night of sleep if I want to without getting up too early. See? Always an upside.