Okay, so as of 12:02 AM EST October 18, 2000 I�m ready. Ready for something new. It�s apparent that I am supposed to �move on� now I guess? I haven�t really seen a whole lot of hope for the old school, so I need to just keep on keepin on. The intention is to be vague, yes.

I was going to throw her down a staircase one night. I would have, she told me years later I should have just punched her square in the face. A slap did the trick for that particular night. I slapped her so hard across the face, and then I tracked him down and my best friend at the time waited for him to get out of work and did some dental work on him with socks full of quarters. Why? Because she did cocaine. Once. She did something that is the most disgusting, low fucking thing a person can do. I can go on and on about drinking is stupid, and blah blah blah, but really, people who do coke, deserve to have the shit beaten out of them. Why not do it for them? I refuse to ever be even remotely connected to anyone who does this crap on a regular basis. It�s evil, and there is no reason for anyone to think it�s �okay every once in a while� Either way, any friend of mine that is doing it, is no friend of mine, and should never even think about calling me. I don�t have any respect for them at all, and I feel they are just useless. The reason I�m bringing this up is I found out a friend of mine is connected in some way or another to people who do this shit today. It�s just so fucking stupid, and I�m just waiting for the day when I can punch another cokehead in the face. If someone can give me a good reason why it�s �okay every once in a while� I will give them 500 dollars to buy all the coke they want, and shut my mouth about it for the rest of my life. Good luck, the 500 bucks is waiting for the first lucky caller. 978-853-6900.

Speaking of cocaine, I need coffee right about now. I�ve had three shots of espresso tonight, and one 16 ounce cup of coffee, yet I want and need more. Fuck, I have my vices, and one could argue the negative things about them, but when it all comes down to it, I feel corrected. I feel disconnected now. No effort is needed anymore to come across like some sort of nice guy. No reason to make phone calls and tell people this and that and explain myself. Happy Birthday. I�m comfortable now. I see these people now that I know and I�m generally happy. Tonight we were talking about how nobody is really around anymore, they�ve �progressed� apparently. My baby�s all grows up. I�ll have a Jack Daniels on the rocks, and let me have that brunette in the corner waiting in the back seat of my Jaguar with no pants on. I�ll have two more drinks, and then I will be on my way out there to show her a great time. We can sit in the back seat of my car with no pants on, and she can tell me what it�s like to be real again. I can go back to that whole lifestyle. This is a joke. I�m kidding. There is never going to be a time like that again. Never again will I need to act like a joker, or a fool. I need to get up and go to the west, the midwest, get the fuck out of this beat place. This city is a piece of garbage. Lot�s of new age people with crystals and ideas that the moon actually makes us act certain ways. Lot�s of guys with chips on their shoulders. Lot�s of dumb guys. Whole building full of them. Walk to downtown Salem and you will see them walking around. Tall, trench coats, pierced cocks and pussies, boots in the summer, owning some world. Thinking they own the world, yet they don�t even know what world it is. Some world. The girls. The girls with their useless information about death and taxes and things that last forever. Ha. What is the saying? I don�t know, it went in one ear and out the other. I find that the more and more I talk to them the harder it is to keep a straight face without saying �are you actually serious?� The garbage truck misses the stop in front of their mouths every week, so they keep on laying it on thick, real fucking thick. Like the bass line in Super Bad off of James Brown�s Revolution of the Mind (Live at the Apollo pt 3). I guess it�s entertainment, it helps me out to fill this diary with something �interesting�. Okay it�s not that interesting to talk about ghosts and sheep constantly, but, hey you do get to a point where it�s all a big fucking joke. People are sensitive about this and that. You call them on something and they get all defensive about it when it�s as clear as day, it�s as serious as cancer. Fuck, I do it to. We all get defensive. Like the time I got the e-mail from that website that said something to the effect of �an anonymous friend says you have a big ego�etc� I immediately contacted everyone I knew and was like �who the fuck sent this to me??!� It was my friend Lauren playing a joke though�Some joke, thanks honey. I sometimes wish I could be a fly on the wall to see what folks really are like. We all put on this fa�ade in front of each other, and it�s so funny. I think I�m actually going to go down to the bar soon. I like watching the people lose control and make themselves into these characters. I like watching people act. I like acting. I like watching people in groups interact and try to impress each other with the funnier story. I like watching the fools fade into dust. Again, it�s just more ammunition for me later that night, or the next morning. Hungover from too much laughing on my way home. Driving home with a functional liver and more pride than ever. Didn�t break it again. Didn�t succumb. Didn�t kill myself one more night. Didn�t fuck the slut in the parking garage tonight. Didn�t get laid, I got in a fight uh huh, it ain�t no good thing. Good company, and cold drinks. Good friends, and another round of piss. Good times on the weakend. Good time to run the three minute mile and get the fuck out of Dodge is what I say. Good time to never tell anyone the secret. It�s time to put the secret in a box and never give it away. It�s time someone learned what to do in an emergency. It�s time someone came up and slapped me in the face and said �come on why don�t you want to have a good time tonight?� It�s time I came clean with everyone here. Is everyone here? Let�s take attendance. Let�s count the number of smiles in the room right now. Raise your hand if your happy. Raise your hand if you think you need to unwind with a nice glass of brandy in the middle of December after a long day at work. Raise your hand if you have ever had a friend killed by Budweiser and a tree. Raise your hand if you think you have all the answers. Raise your hand if you�ve ever had sex while drunk, but knew what you were doing all along. Raise your hand if it feels good to take that first piss. Raise you hand if you�ve ever dreamt that you were drowning. Raise your hand if you feel good driving on the wrong side of the road. Raise your hand if you know what I�m talking about. Raise your hand if you think the road is turning left and it�s the correct route to take. Raise your hand if you can bench 200 pounds. Raise your hand if Charles Bukowski is a hero to you as well as a great writer. Raise your hand if you want to have sex with a stranger. Raise your hand if you find yourself crying yourself to sleep every night. Raise your hand if there�s nowhere to turn now. Raise your hand if you are an addict now. Raise your hand if you can�t go a day dry. Raise your hand if you can see where you�ll be in ten years. Raise your hand if you are a weak piece of shit that needs to be thrown down a fucking staircase.

before & after