So, I didn't really notice until a couple of days ago, but I'm sick. I'm not paying attention to anything going on. I call my morphine dealer, then my heroin dealer, then my morphine dealer, then the heroin dealer. I think I'm taking breaks, but really, I'm disillusioning myself by using different drug dealers. I briefly snapped out of it. "OK, OK, Tomatoes, Fucking stop it. You're going to blow all your money and then be sick." Too fucking late. They cut off my unemployment. I went over to my ex-girlfriend's house in Canoga Park a few days ago. Her mom gave me 10 Vicodins. I ate all 10 at once and washed them down with 14 beers. Suffice it to say, unspeakable acts took place. They took place all over the place. The living room, the kitchen, the backyard. I have no idea what happened to her mother nor why we were not in the slightest concerned with her possible entrance. Although I must admit, I was a bit confused with her apparent conviction that we were being convalesced by next-door inhabitants. We played the "You take it, I take it" game. I entertained myself by pulling her panties down and putting them back on at least 50 times. She likes it when I get bossy. Well, I pretend to think that. Around nine in the morning, I realized I had Dungeons and Dragons that day. "Can you give me a ride to D&D?" "No way. I'm tired. I'm going to sleep." "Well, it's not 'til 3. How bout we set the alarm clock, and you take me?" She refused nor would she had sex with me before my departure to take the buses for four hours to the opposite end of Los Angeles County. She accused me of treating her as a whore which was a bit disconcerting to me. Women like sex just as much as guys do. Possibly more. It's weird when they act like they do it as a favor. So, I piled the gallon of Carlo Rossi and all the remaining beers into my backpack, and set out with no good-bye because I was pissed off. She possibly may never speak to me again. It'll probably make me cry at some point, but I purposefully choose to not consider that imminent destiny right yet. There's plenty of time for crying later. Maybe one of my days off? Half a mile walk to the bus stop, waited for half an hour in the hot summer sun. It was a Sunday. It was a "beautiful day" as the people that drive around in air conditioned cars, work in air conditioned offices, and sleep in air conditioned homes like to say. I think the sickest word in the English language is the expression, "SUNBATHING". Are you sick in the fucking head or what? What the fuck is wrong with you? I'm not going to bore you with all the details. It was a mind numbing four hours of sheer joy. I drank beer on the bus. I was bored as fuck. Oh yeah, and you better believe it, I drooled on myself various times. I had a good book with me though. Haunted by Chuck Palahniuk. I feel a bit typical for liking his writing so much, but it's good. When something's good, it's good. That's all there is to it. Quite possibly, other people will like it too. There's nothing you can do about it. If other people didn't like it, you probably would've never've heard about it in the first place. i went home, got my Player's Handbook, my character sheet, my bag of dice, and my bike. Upon arrival to the D&D session, I was completely confused. Why did I leave the comfort of her soft kisses and arms cradling me for all this? I'll never be able to answer that question. I love D&D though. There's this book, I want it so bad. It's called "Manual of the Planes". It's about "extraplanar adventuring" in the D&D world whatever in the fucking hell that world's called. It's not Earth. That's all I'm sure of. Besides, it's insubstantial. But, when you go to these other planes, you wouldn't be on Earth anyways. Like I previously said: insubstantial. Am I making words up or what? It was fun. I play an old Satanic witch of course as I always do. She's a pathological liar. She's milks people for the old lady sympathy, . . . and then cuts their heads off with a bastard sword. She's the grandmother you always wished you had. I named her after one of my favorite black metal bands: Blodulv. but, her name's Blodulvia for some reason. Wow, this blog's quickly going downhill. I'm sure some immediately got the glazed over expression immediately upon mentioning Dungeons and Dragons if they even got this far. According to my roommate, she can tell how fucked up I am gauged on the percentage of forced conversation concerning the best game on the face of the fucking planet!!!!!!!!!! Dungeons and Fucking Dragons!!!!! and cribbage of course, never forget the cribbage. I got home, drank a whole shitload of beer, woke up the next morning, and went to work. I was in so much pain. My whole body hurts like you wouldn't believe. There's a constant feed in my brain. It says, "Don't call the drug dealer. Don't call the drug dealer. Don't call the drug dealer. Don't call the drug dealer." for the sake of my bank account, for the sake of Tookie, for the sake of not feeling like shit when the money runs out, and I lie on the floor squirming and crying. I'm a grown man, damn it! Last time I got addicted to heroin, I moved to Monterrey, Mexico to break myself of the habit. I lived on this old lady's roof in the winter time. It was freezing. Her name, "La Chata". I think it was. It means smooshed face. Mexicans, they have this weird tradition of blatantly making fun of each other. i.e. if you're fat, they call you "El Gordo". But, they also have a weird tradition of being extremely hospitable which is stupendous of course. "Te gustarian algunos tacos?" "Fuck yeah, me gustarian tacos!" One time, I was fucking my girlfriend on an old gross mattress in an abandoned warehouse in a shanti town outside of Guadalajara. I took my dick out and came on her stomach. She called me, "cochino." I took a half-dranken caguama off the floor and chugged it down. We took buses for three hours back to El Rancho Nuevo, the South Central of Guadalajara. It was hot as a motherfucker. I heard she was murdered. What a drag. And, the people I was staying with: Yaki from Fallas del Sistema, him and his whole family died in a fiery car crash recently. It was Yaki that told me she was murdered last time I visited him in Guadalajara, and now he's dead himself. It sucks. I would always crack up so bad, he had this girlfriend, she was a beauty queen. Like for real. It was fun hanging out getting wasted in the ghetto with Ms. Mexico. Anyway, they're all dead because people in Mexico are shitty drivers and apparently have a desire to disembowel people. So, I went to work, sick as fuck. I hid from work and watched somebody destroy cars as part of the "Cash For Clunkers" program. They drain all the oil, and then put in liquid glass and run it. It's rad. Completely destroys the engine. You can't even overhaul it. I'm going to tell my boss, I want that to be my job! Echo Park Cribbage Club tonight. Nika and Abby are bringing a croquet set too. It oughta be fun. It's free. Bring beer and fortified wine. and maybe just two Vicodins for me. If you could please. Just to get over that hump. Everything hurts.