So much on my mind, drawing, starting my own business, cats, my brother wanting a place en mi casa, and now I am walking around with four hundred dollars of Meiji's booze. Damn. I was given a box at the liquor store and when I pulled out my bag I realized that it was not big enough, so I went out and switched the booze into my bag, where was I, the downtown library which is right next to the liquor store! Yeah, I had to scaddle as fast as possible. One guy came over to arrange something in his bag, I could smell the liquor on his breath, and I knew I was being scooped out. I had to move. The bums are out there, they know the package I am carrying, I will have to continue to evade them.
In other news the comic is coming along, not as fast as I would like, but it's moving. God I need to get this done. Finishing comics reminds me of the huge community meetings I was going to in the east village around when the twin towers dropped, nothing really gets done until everyone is overwhelmed, frustrated, And exasperated, definitely exasperated. I guess it is different. I guess a better description is the work is actually getting done once you are exhausted.
Now on the local side. You never know just how many hipsters are around you 'till the weather gets nice. The other day I went to a coffee shop and this dude, kid, ( I don't even know what to call him. ) He asked to sit at my table, which was really just a formality 'cause it was a big table. The first thing I noticed was his greased pointy little moustache. Next he pulls out a computer, a x-men comic and a bible study book. Fuck FUCK Fuck. comics, pointy moustache, and bible study. my brain hates him and the universe, unfortunately ours and not some meta realm, that he inhabits, unless.... no there is only one reality... So does this jerk have a mother, does she love his candy ass, is she happy that she bore this pathetic little beast. Now get what this little pustule does next. He fucking calls his mom and makes plans with her, then he calls his girl friend discusses his plans with her, then back to mom!?! And I have to listen to this. I remember sitting in the basement of the montage at four in the mourning and talking about puck rockers that would get their moms to sew their patches on to their clothes, my mommy made me look punk so I could fit in. Who knows maybe they actually believed and they were just lazy. Why work when you don't have to, that's a drunk punk notion right.? So I am in a city with comic reading, moustache twisting, bible thumping, bosom nuzzling, hipsters. I should either stick with fire fighting and retreat to the woods for the summer, or... What's my other options, I need some sort of hipster taser. I could challenge fools to duels in the street. Yeah, that wouldn't get me arrested. It was a consensual duel. Damn, now I want the apocalypse of twenty twelve, just to see those suckers freak. It would be like the time I was flying in that eight seater with my family when they all thought we were going to crash. I don't remember being afraid, it was just to awesome to watch them, tremble in terror, maybe I am a closet sadist. Well when these cudgelled hipsters come screaming in the streets I won't be in any closet.
Must move, booze hounds are circling..
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