Allan's Psychedelic Breakfast

Happy Halloween!

I spent the first 2 and a half hours or so of Halloween seeing The Rocky Horror Purchase Show after celebrating Skalloween with The Toasters, the Pieaters and Big D and the Kids Table. For some reason Skalloween made me miss the days when many years ago we'd sit on Frankie's stoop with an acoustic guitar and a 40 in the sun playing old punk and ska songs. Those were the days...

Chief runs-no-more is full of ash and broken dreams again.  The dawn is baring down hard like a nun in a blender full of piss and whiskey.  crack open a warm budweiser and rehearse the escape plan.  But why all the toilet paper?  Flee you bastard, they called last night and want your head flee god damn it!  Persona non grata.  Weird memories and assuredly stranger forgotten ones surfacing like a stranger in a bar somewhere where smoke rings form a noose around the stool pigeon with bad credit and bum rap.  And there they go again, those bastards with the hats.   People sleeping on the floor and i can't explain why the sun always seems to melt in my hand.  Maybe just one more beer after i roll up this smoke.

It's August 2nd and i'm leaving on the 26th, i guess consider this somewhat of a last-minute warning to people who have had my book(s) for months that i'm going to need them back by the end of the month, so read up.

And:  If you're already done with whatever book(s) you may have borrowed from me, i work 6 days a week from 5pm to anytime between 10:30 and 2, so it would probably be best to get it to me before i go to work, on my day off or just to drop it at my house.

Thanks, and  i hope i didn't sound like too much of a dick.

Then fuck you in the ear with a sodering iron, you are a vile festering vindictive dingleberry on the ass of an otherwise reasonable person... you are cancer personified.

Christina's in my basement, (possibly sleeping) coffee is brewing, it's 5:36 and dawn is well underway and we just finished drinking from the night before.  We screamed proclemations of inanity from a fenced-off dirt pile on 82nd and shore (baseball fields) wrote haikus, drank more, talked about Kerouac and America and eternity and even though i'm completely over-run with work i have to make up i don't care.

Mom and Dad are sleeping
Freeway
             sounds like waves.



anyway, the coffee's brewed now and i'm rejuvinated.  Life is great.

If i took you off my friends list, nothing personal, i just don't know how to make entries private to one (or more) person(s) so i took everyone sans that person off my enemies-i mean "friends" list. (i actually did type enemies first, out of force of habit with lists and all...)

Anyway about life, i got the official letter of acceptance from the admittance office at Purchase, i've been sick on so many levels lately and i'm having more trouble with getting a decent night's sleep than i have in a long time...

what else...


i know i'm forgetting something...

CHILI'S BEEN MISSING SINCE SUNDAY!

Yesterday, i was looking for him on 78th between third and fourth because apparently someone called my house saying there are a lot of strays around there, so i went and checked. It was dark out, probably around 10:00 pm, and out of the shadows comes this sickly looking (but still slightly heavy set) tabby of the Chilian persuasion; grey, black, brown, white on the face and trotting up to me with a sense of eagerness, happy yet not completely convinced he should be; much in the manner a used car salesman would approach prospective clientele. So this little grey bastard comes trotting and meowing concealed in darkness all the way up to my feet and i bend down to pick him up, as i do so the little fucker turns around and runs back several feet-frightened. I wonder what the hell is wrong and i realize it's an imposter! Not only an imposter, but an imposter who half leads/half follows me to another god damned imposter. Two fucking tabbies on the same block... if there is a God i seriously would not doubt him actually being on Pat Robertson's side... maybe even backing him for president in 2008-Whenever i die. Bastard.

Although on the plus side, i did find evidence that Chili is okay. Both of the tabbies i met last night were in a pitiful physical state, some cuts, scrapes bruises, small chips taken out of the ears; this can only mean Chili is still out there prowling the streets somewhere showing all the assholes, phonies, imposters, english"men" and surly bastards who's boss; getting drunk with Topcat and giving this life a run for it's money.

And now it's raining... yay...

So... i just got a letter in the mail saying i passed my audition for the consevatory of music at Purchase. Now i just have to send them some letters of recomendation for the general school dealy and i'll probably be gone in August(?) I don't know, point is - you know i rock.

Oi... now this is going to be my last spring/summer here, i'm going to spend it in a mad rush to graduate - i know i can, i just kinda let a few extra credits pile up not really planning on anything important happening, it's just basically going to mean being entrenched in school work and maybe even summer school. Yea, my last real summer vacation and i get summer school, wheeee.

New point; i'm (probably) going to miss at least one out of every third person who reads this a little, so keep tabs and be flattered.