Last California Thought
I'm sitting at one of the gates at tiny Long Beach airport, ready to board my JetBlue flight back to New York City. There's a buxom blonde sitting across from me with breasts the size of a watermelon. I'm pretty sure she's a porn star or a stripper. I keep looking up and admiring her melons while I checked my email. I got caught twice already. Three strikes and I'm out. Chances of her actually sitting next to me are slim.
I got stoned with Showcase and Change100 this morning. Last LA wake and bake. They had to tidy up because the maid was coming over. $40 for a clean apartment. Not too shabby. I wonder if she has sticky fingers?
We ate breakfast at Nick's Coffee Shop before I left for the airport. Halfway through my French Toast, four slices of bacon, and hash browns with cheddar cheese... in walked Rebecca DeMornay. She's super sassy. I use to wank off to her tits when I was in high school.
And in college.
And three and a half months ago.
It's a cloudy day in Southern California and it looks like rain is ready to fall. Upon my return to NYC, I need to go to rehab for a week or so and sleep for another week. This is the first time in over a year plus that I did absoultely nothing and enjoyed every second of it. After ten straight days of work, I went on one wicked bender. I'm still standing barely and escaped with just a jaywalking ticket. My poker bankroll is intact (I actually added to it) and my credit card didn't take too bad of a hit considering I extended my LA trip by 9 days.
I'll be in NYC for less than two weeks before I hit the road again for six weeks. Four of which will be in Las Vegas and I'll try to spend two more in LA. If I don't finish my book in two weeks, I'm fucked.