days of deadness
Posted: October 22nd, 2005, 8:00 pm
“Geoff what you up to?” There it was slaks jack ass face, looking right at me with his scartisued face.
“nothing Slak, to work, telemarketing.” I met slak on the steet. Back when I still enjoyed getting drunk everyday and being dirty, and bumming change. Slak looks different now too, cleaner, and he has less cuts on his face. Still lots of scares though. I was feeling kind of bord so I continued on.
“so, Slak, what you up to lately? ‘spearing change for drinking beer and kicking ass.’” That was the slogan back in the day—back last summer. He said no, and he was telemarketing now too—tellimarteting is not such a transition from bummiong change really, bumming change is probally more honest work! Slak siaid he REALLY had to go, as though he did not want to hurt what ever feelings he thought I had to be hurt.
I am flying right past telemarketing. Fuck it! It’s for dimwitted foolsd! Stuck up image is everything dicks and hores. People that talk about reallalti9y tv shows and clothing. But me I am going to crack open some mother fucking insane ass writing for you all, That collegde and university professor will not like. This is freedom writing, and it is a whole lot more real than anything dip in grease in the white house kitchen!
September 29 2005
I took as day off work to dirnk. The hurican was coming through Montreal , or the remnants of it. I thought it would be A nice day to hid in my room and drink, but by the trid or fourth, I decided to go down the the park with the staue of the French man that lost his hat. There I would start my show. Weathger effects me just as it does dogs, or birds.
A couple of bums were around 50 years old or so. Fat, all of them with dirty ball caps and 40’s of beer. My friend and adoience and players on the stage of my intoxication show, some love and other’s hate it. The bum with the giture was saying that he was cold so I gave him my hoody—he santered off—or more like woobled.
A conversations with a couple of university girls. I was squatting in front of their bench. The asked what I was doing in the park that day, and I told them that I was hitting on them, and the said both of us. I said yes, and then the said, “Ourr boyfriends will love that! Oh and the show must going on—I must be satisfied!
Later I am drinking with some street punks, and one if them pulls out some seeds and ,akes a tea. Says If I can dirk the whole thing and the seeds in the bottom I can have the last beer. I do. The show gets blurry—stagering around—no balance. And then a Hospital. Tey had me in restrants. I screamed. And the let me out.
September 30 2005—pay day
I puked in the parking lot behind work, no food, just beer. It is pretty sick. I am saying to my self “I need a beer to calm my nerves.” The manager come in. I find out I am only getting paid 149.00 for the week I had 14 sales on the bored, they are all bad. I get paid on none of them.
Friday and saterday I am drunk. Pointless conversatons with lots of people I know and don’t know. I apicked up a girl the talked in non-stoop poetry and was a masicas. She bit my neck, it left a bruse. She scratch my chest with her finger nails. I play radio head and she said that made her happy. She had red hair, and nice tits that I licked and sucked on. I pulled of her pants. “do you have a condom?” Yes I did nad I was just about to put it in and she said. “really I donb’t feel like penetration tonight.”
“Pleas I said easing back.”
“fucking go then.”
“all you care about is sex!”
“get the fuck out.” I slamed the door behind her. IU wish I was nicer to her. But I am no masicist and I don’t think we could of really of been friends. It would have been fun to fuck her though.
Sunday oct 2nd 2005
I woke up at about 7 pm. I did not feel hung over. I was in a good mood.coffee. laundry. I was not goiung to dirnk. In the laundry mat a horrible panic hit my head. I could not stand still. My heart was pounding. I was short of breath. I kept pasibng back and forth. I went home, laundry was done. It kept on intensifying. I asked the girl downs stairs to call a ambulance. My arm were starting to go numb. I don’t want a heart attack. I have never gotten this bad before I thought. I kept coughing. I was breathing really fask my hands were completely numb now—I had poains in my chest.
The ambulance workiner put asnd oxygen mask on me. Told me to try to breath slowly.
“You do coke?” the aske
“no.” I said and the ambulance worker smiukled.
“how much did you do?”
“I did some seeds, I did..” the worker cut me off.
“don’t try to to talk, breath slowly.
In the hospital the gave me some thng to slow down my heart rate. The did test. There was no coke in my body. But there was a lot of amphmines. The doctor told me that is why my whole body felt numb—Why I was so scared and that yes I could have had a heart attack. I stayed there until 7 and then went home and wrote this.
Geoff Parsons
“nothing Slak, to work, telemarketing.” I met slak on the steet. Back when I still enjoyed getting drunk everyday and being dirty, and bumming change. Slak looks different now too, cleaner, and he has less cuts on his face. Still lots of scares though. I was feeling kind of bord so I continued on.
“so, Slak, what you up to lately? ‘spearing change for drinking beer and kicking ass.’” That was the slogan back in the day—back last summer. He said no, and he was telemarketing now too—tellimarteting is not such a transition from bummiong change really, bumming change is probally more honest work! Slak siaid he REALLY had to go, as though he did not want to hurt what ever feelings he thought I had to be hurt.
I am flying right past telemarketing. Fuck it! It’s for dimwitted foolsd! Stuck up image is everything dicks and hores. People that talk about reallalti9y tv shows and clothing. But me I am going to crack open some mother fucking insane ass writing for you all, That collegde and university professor will not like. This is freedom writing, and it is a whole lot more real than anything dip in grease in the white house kitchen!
September 29 2005
I took as day off work to dirnk. The hurican was coming through Montreal , or the remnants of it. I thought it would be A nice day to hid in my room and drink, but by the trid or fourth, I decided to go down the the park with the staue of the French man that lost his hat. There I would start my show. Weathger effects me just as it does dogs, or birds.
A couple of bums were around 50 years old or so. Fat, all of them with dirty ball caps and 40’s of beer. My friend and adoience and players on the stage of my intoxication show, some love and other’s hate it. The bum with the giture was saying that he was cold so I gave him my hoody—he santered off—or more like woobled.
A conversations with a couple of university girls. I was squatting in front of their bench. The asked what I was doing in the park that day, and I told them that I was hitting on them, and the said both of us. I said yes, and then the said, “Ourr boyfriends will love that! Oh and the show must going on—I must be satisfied!
Later I am drinking with some street punks, and one if them pulls out some seeds and ,akes a tea. Says If I can dirk the whole thing and the seeds in the bottom I can have the last beer. I do. The show gets blurry—stagering around—no balance. And then a Hospital. Tey had me in restrants. I screamed. And the let me out.
September 30 2005—pay day
I puked in the parking lot behind work, no food, just beer. It is pretty sick. I am saying to my self “I need a beer to calm my nerves.” The manager come in. I find out I am only getting paid 149.00 for the week I had 14 sales on the bored, they are all bad. I get paid on none of them.
Friday and saterday I am drunk. Pointless conversatons with lots of people I know and don’t know. I apicked up a girl the talked in non-stoop poetry and was a masicas. She bit my neck, it left a bruse. She scratch my chest with her finger nails. I play radio head and she said that made her happy. She had red hair, and nice tits that I licked and sucked on. I pulled of her pants. “do you have a condom?” Yes I did nad I was just about to put it in and she said. “really I donb’t feel like penetration tonight.”
“Pleas I said easing back.”
“fucking go then.”
“all you care about is sex!”
“get the fuck out.” I slamed the door behind her. IU wish I was nicer to her. But I am no masicist and I don’t think we could of really of been friends. It would have been fun to fuck her though.
Sunday oct 2nd 2005
I woke up at about 7 pm. I did not feel hung over. I was in a good mood.coffee. laundry. I was not goiung to dirnk. In the laundry mat a horrible panic hit my head. I could not stand still. My heart was pounding. I was short of breath. I kept pasibng back and forth. I went home, laundry was done. It kept on intensifying. I asked the girl downs stairs to call a ambulance. My arm were starting to go numb. I don’t want a heart attack. I have never gotten this bad before I thought. I kept coughing. I was breathing really fask my hands were completely numb now—I had poains in my chest.
The ambulance workiner put asnd oxygen mask on me. Told me to try to breath slowly.
“You do coke?” the aske
“no.” I said and the ambulance worker smiukled.
“how much did you do?”
“I did some seeds, I did..” the worker cut me off.
“don’t try to to talk, breath slowly.
In the hospital the gave me some thng to slow down my heart rate. The did test. There was no coke in my body. But there was a lot of amphmines. The doctor told me that is why my whole body felt numb—Why I was so scared and that yes I could have had a heart attack. I stayed there until 7 and then went home and wrote this.
Geoff Parsons