New Rain Jackets and Predator Missile Strikes

In an unexpected turn of events, I was comfortable in my skin for almost seven minutes. Then a good looking young man with knuckle tattoos walked by me and I remembered I was an aging has been with a gut returned to it’s proper zenith.

I was on the streetcar today and noticed the guy in front of me rolling his head back and forth moaning while his arm seemed to be jerking. I just thought he was being cray cray, but an older lady in a Patagonian vest and boots over her jeans had a shocked looked on her face, so I peeked over the seat to find this guy rubbing his boner through his sweat pants. I asked him to stop and he got all embarrassed like he didn’t know anyone could tell he was trying to rub one out. I told him it was a little rude to masturbate in public and then I was at my stop. Other than the old lady and a homeless guy, I had no idea why he had to masturbate right there on the streetcar.

While sleep has been easier, I have had some bowel issues since quitting smoking.

I’m letting the ‘old’ thing take over. I’m now attacking younger people for their cultural choices. I’m finding it all hilarious, but sometimes the target of my slobbering old man banter gets met with ferocious youthful defensive resistance. Getting someone all worked up still makes me proud and I just want to get back to the Elk Lodge and tell the boys what I have done.

Remember the rain jacket I lost a few weeks back? You don’t? Go back a few blogs and read about it. I’ll wait. Done? Good. I ordered a new one exactly like it and it came in today. It’s black and simple with deep pockets to carry all my old man things such as a small moleskin and pen, change, bus transfers and movie ticket stubs, my Nicorette gum and anything shiny I find on the side of the road.

Finally checked out the new Dandy Warhols album. I like it a lot. I thought I was done with their music from the last few albums, but I think they came back to their earlier sound. If you met Courtney Taylor-Taylor and you have some story about how he was an asshole, I don’t want to hear about it. It is more boring than hearing about how you were friends with Pig Champion.

Oregon won. It was a hard game to get excited about. I liked the Grand Avenue Bowling bar where we watched it. They did a good job in there. Comfortable, good service and the food is okay. The music was a little loud, but then again, they weren’t playing Glenn Miller.

86 days till baseball starts.

I forgot to mention from my last blog that if you feel like you need guns to protect yourself from the government, then you haven’t been paying attention to what kind of toys our military has. If the evil socialist, but sometimes fascist, government wanted to put a damper on your little training camp in Montana, they would use a Predator drone and give you a Hellfire missile pie to welcome you back into the United States, or if they wanted some distance, they could have one of those submarines launch a few Tomahawk missiles from the Indian Ocean and hit your gun shack in rural Indiana, but maybe your little AR-15 will help you, I don’t know.

I started making payments on my school loans.

I love my friends, I love my girlfriend and I love being out doing things, but tonight I could not wait to get home and write.

Sometimes I feel like I am terrible at making and keeping friends.

I do love a good cheeseburger.

I wish I had a record player.

Sometimes I forget that I’m not as crazy as I used to be. I actually am quite okay. I don’t know if I can ever get used to that. What if I was okay all the time? I’d be boring – a hole in the donut.

What will happen next?