Have you ever had one of those moments where you were hungry but, for the life of you, couldn’t think of what to eat? For me, these moments are typically compounded by my complete lack of desire to cook or even heat up anything. In these times, I often just curse myself under my breath and start thinking of the reason why I should just go to bed hungry and say, “Fuck it.”
Except I am smarter than that. When I do give in and go to bed hungry, I sleep like shit. I wake up early. I spend the next day being pissed at myself for being a stupid, lays about that won’t even make a meal for himself.
Last night was one of these nights. Eventually I gave in and heated myself up some leftovers, but still. Better to go to bed with a full belly than to end up tossing and turning because you need something to eat.
Don’t be like me. Make yourself some food.
I’m reading Vision Quest by Terry Davis, and I don’t want it to stop. My buddy, Frank, gave it to me and I’m so bummed that I sort of dismissed his affinity for the book the last few years. He told me a while ago that it was amazing, and I just sort of thought about the movie with Matthew Modine that I kind of hated.
When I think about it now, it was “Crazy for You” by Madonna that made me kind of despise the song. The movie came out in 1985 when I was in the throes of learning how to be a “dating kinda guy” and it seemed like every girl I met loved that stupid song. If I danced slowly to it once at Tommy’s, it must’ve been a dozen or more times (that seemed like a few thousand).
I digress, though, because the book is fucking great. Wikipedia lists it as a “young adult” novel, but it certainly is anything but that. If it is a YA book, it must have confused the shit out just about every teenager who read it. Those that got it, though, good for them. They probably became college professors, investment bankers, and drag queens. (and I mean that in the best way)
Drag queens are cool by me. I think being a drag queen, to allude to my Monday blog, is pretty damn punk rock in most cases. I’ve been to a couple of drag events and enjoyed them.
I’m savoring this last chapter, though. When I’m finished, I’m on to the Marty Feldman autobiography, then a book on the Damned. I’ve got some sweet reading lined up thanks to the J’s. Birthday presents rule.
Every morning I pray that the Cocaine Baby stays home. That sucks. He got in trouble repeatedly again yesterday. I may have to see if thelifeandtimesofarealcocainebaby.com is up for grabs. If so, I might have to start a new mini blog in case y’all are getting sick of him.
Each day, I swear, he realizes that I am more and more of a worthy opponent for him, and he digs in his stupid little heels a bit more. If he makes it to the end of the year, I will either have a fine little chap to be proud of or so many gray hairs that I will look like Brent Spiner’s character in Independence Day.
Jeebus, please help me.
See you tomorrow.
AI made this for me.