10.14.98
I'm smashing things a little today. Also, I've grown bored with the scribbles, so they're gone too. I told you I'm a bitch when I'm sick! Class, the vocabulary word for the day is "Beta Hemolytic Streptococci, group A. Mark Lum (Dr. Lum to you!) called me this morning and told me to stop swapping spit with people. I informed him that I was not so lucky as to have swapped spit recently. He has a very dry humor.
Coming back home from Kaiser Permanente's Honolulu Clinic today, I stopped at Fisher's for a steno pad and pen. I felt a need to jot some things down, so I did. The first signs of Christmas are upon us. (ACK!) I watched the workmen assembled at Tamarind Park hang the beginnings of several million lights on the trees there. One thing that this city of mine does not scrimp on is Christmas. Every year, they create something there that you can't believe you're seeing. The light produced on the trees is so intense, so uniform, and then it changes. Pow. Yet again. Zowie. Mesmerized, the jaw slacks, and everyone, no matter how callous they may be, is transported to that fab time when they were four years old, and there were no "Matters of consequence."
If you have not done so already, go read The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Then, it will all make sense to you.
Meanwhile, on the #3 Navy-Nimitz Gate
It takes a lot to turn the eye of this faggot boy towards a woman. I did for this one, though. She had the most enormous set of breasts I've ever seen in my life. I could not help myself, I had to stare. She was not particularly attractive, and she definitely did not look like a glamour girl dancer from one of the many Korean bars. Her tits were just so fucking big!! I'm sure she was quite used to the stares of men. I'm also quite sure that she does not enjoy them. You know, I've always admired those with physical anomalies which are easily visible. How great their struggle in life must be, and what a fabulous strength of character must be required in order to survive. I guess I've been lucky in that respect. Nobody has stared at me, save to admire my extreme physical beauty.
Now, I am assaulted by a quite rude woman who is sitting askew on the seat next to me, with this HUGE backpack jabbing me in the arm. I'd like to tell her "Would you PLEASE stop beating the shit out of me with that fucking thing?" but I'm too polite today. She is very impatient, and shifting back and forth in her seat. She must be getting off soon, for someone that rude couldn't possibly have far to go (I hope she will go far, and I hope soon…) It all boils down to that funny thing called common courtesy. The game of life is so much smoother when we all play by the same set of rules, don't you think?
She got off, and I've found something to avert my eyes from the biggie boobs, so I don't need to continue my tirade against rudeness and incivility. Such a lovely boy sitting across from me, right next to bosom-o-rama. Pardon me for saying, but he looks Canadian. That is not an impolite thing, in fact it is quite positive. He's young, attractive, well groomed, and quite white. I'm having a fantasy about him and his nice ass. (Yes, quite nice…he's wearing Levi 505 jeans and has a 30" waist and a 31" inseam. How dangerous can a steno pad be?!?) Occasionally, he lifts his gaze from his book and looks my way. I don't care, cuz I look like SHIT, with a pocket full of amoxicillin and econazole cream for the "kane" on my neck. Mmmm, if he only knew how easy it would be to infect him.
And, that's what it's all about, isn't it?
Coming back home from Kaiser Permanente's Honolulu Clinic today, I stopped at Fisher's for a steno pad and pen. I felt a need to jot some things down, so I did. The first signs of Christmas are upon us. (ACK!) I watched the workmen assembled at Tamarind Park hang the beginnings of several million lights on the trees there. One thing that this city of mine does not scrimp on is Christmas. Every year, they create something there that you can't believe you're seeing. The light produced on the trees is so intense, so uniform, and then it changes. Pow. Yet again. Zowie. Mesmerized, the jaw slacks, and everyone, no matter how callous they may be, is transported to that fab time when they were four years old, and there were no "Matters of consequence."
If you have not done so already, go read The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Then, it will all make sense to you.
Meanwhile, on the #3 Navy-Nimitz Gate
It takes a lot to turn the eye of this faggot boy towards a woman. I did for this one, though. She had the most enormous set of breasts I've ever seen in my life. I could not help myself, I had to stare. She was not particularly attractive, and she definitely did not look like a glamour girl dancer from one of the many Korean bars. Her tits were just so fucking big!! I'm sure she was quite used to the stares of men. I'm also quite sure that she does not enjoy them. You know, I've always admired those with physical anomalies which are easily visible. How great their struggle in life must be, and what a fabulous strength of character must be required in order to survive. I guess I've been lucky in that respect. Nobody has stared at me, save to admire my extreme physical beauty.
Now, I am assaulted by a quite rude woman who is sitting askew on the seat next to me, with this HUGE backpack jabbing me in the arm. I'd like to tell her "Would you PLEASE stop beating the shit out of me with that fucking thing?" but I'm too polite today. She is very impatient, and shifting back and forth in her seat. She must be getting off soon, for someone that rude couldn't possibly have far to go (I hope she will go far, and I hope soon…) It all boils down to that funny thing called common courtesy. The game of life is so much smoother when we all play by the same set of rules, don't you think?
She got off, and I've found something to avert my eyes from the biggie boobs, so I don't need to continue my tirade against rudeness and incivility. Such a lovely boy sitting across from me, right next to bosom-o-rama. Pardon me for saying, but he looks Canadian. That is not an impolite thing, in fact it is quite positive. He's young, attractive, well groomed, and quite white. I'm having a fantasy about him and his nice ass. (Yes, quite nice…he's wearing Levi 505 jeans and has a 30" waist and a 31" inseam. How dangerous can a steno pad be?!?) Occasionally, he lifts his gaze from his book and looks my way. I don't care, cuz I look like SHIT, with a pocket full of amoxicillin and econazole cream for the "kane" on my neck. Mmmm, if he only knew how easy it would be to infect him.
And, that's what it's all about, isn't it?
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