June twenty-ninth. I gotta get in shape. Too much sitting has ruined my body. Too much abuse has gone on for too long. From now on there will be 50 pushups each morning, 50 pullups. There will be no more pills, no more bad food, no more destroyers of my body. From now on will be total organization. Every muscle must be tight.
Each night when I return the cab to the garage, I have to clean the cum off the back seat. Some nights, I clean off the blood.
Now I see this clearly. My whole life is pointed in one direction. There never has been a choice for me.
Loneliness has followed me my whole life, everywhere. In bars, in cars, sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There's no escape. I'm God's lonely man.
- My buddy and his dog killed two of them and, no shit, I torched the last one.
- Yeah, I burnt her ass to a crisp.
What the hell are you looking at, you little ginger-haired fucker?
- You are real, right?
- I'm as real as a donut, motherfucker.
Anybody accidentally kills anybody in a fight, they go to jail. It's called manslaughter. I think all that lethal weapon horseshit is just an excuse so you dancers never have to get in a real fight.