On the crazy scale I'm one step below those guys you see on the West Bank who are scribbling and doodling shit into a notebook.
I hear a dog in the other room chewing on a throw rug.
I was cold on the last two escorts this week.
A dog wakes me up at 3 o'clock in the morning to go outside. I wear a pair of Belechicked Zubaz Chicago Bears lounge pants when we walk down 42nd Street.
I'm not talking about dance lessons, I'm talking about throwing a brick through the other guy's windshield.
My brother Jim works here on Sundays. He sent us a box of goodies including some loose tea for my birthday as well as a crisp fifty, sporty. Some of the tea is pretty good but some is akin to boiling your sweat socks and drinking that liquid. Of course that's the tea that's really good for you and puts lead in your pencil. Got it sizzlechest?