Blustery Day Fortissimo....

DAY III

Tobacco: zilch (yak-yak-yak--that's my lungs wondering what happened to the tuft of interior smoke it was pleasantly sifting on....)

Booze: Zilch, although I suffered hard-core insomnia last night and didn't crash until five. A shot or three of Knob's Creek REALLY would've lulled me into intergalactic peace. Liquer, the universal icebreaker.

Coffee: Already 10 am and, uh, yeah, look over there (Slurp-slurp-slurp)...

Academic Progress: Still chiseling away. The slab of marble I was handed in the beginning of the semester is starting to look less like a giant ornate rococo shaped Liver and more like the first letter of the alphabet reserved for pithy students who do exactly what their prof's require of them and seldom harbor a life altering notion of their own.

Health: WHAT? The rash is still festering on my face. I look like the Phantom of the Opera sans the shattered hockey mask. The rash is red and oily and itches like hell. I've raked my fingernails through it enough times that you'd think my skin would be ready for next years harvest already. And it looks terrible. But oh well. I need anti-biotics and maybe if I go to the Health Center and cry they'll give me some. Only, like the majority of the planet, I don't have Health Insurance and that's where techinicalities come in.....I swear, sometimes I think in America it's easier to score a dimebag of Heroin than it is to get simple medical attention.....

Which is part of the reason of this forty-day hunger strike, look over there (slurp-slurp-slurp). I have phobias that I need to vault over in order to become that individual I need to be. Phobias that I've seldom blogged about. Stupid little phobias like how the inside of a hospital ward scares the fuck out of me....I'll blogg about it later. Now it's time for the toady lil' scholar to creep out of me. Jeeves, My pocket calculator....

Slurp....Slurp....slurp.........ahhhhhhhhhhh.