Someone's playing a trumpet across the street. Perhaps it's a rooster. In L.A. county there's a new ordinance limiting a household to one rooster. Perhaps this is for the noise. More likely the fighting.
An SPCA commercial says 250,000 puppies are born to fight each year. It showed all sorts of neglected animals: dogs, cats, birds, cows, pigs, horses, tasmanian devils, mammoths and paramecium. I got teary eyed. As usual.
Last Halloween was the last time I drank. And the dead (my dead) are all still dead. Yeah! Sigh.
People are waiting for taxis. It's cold. The roosters and trumpets are honking.
As we all verge into extinction.
Like Miller's whores.
Germaine was different. Verging. Rundown. Cheap. Rouged. etc. etc. Rubbing her pussy. etc. etc.
A woman just burped in the elevator next to me. Her hands were full and I'd just pressed her button. 6. The burp was a thank you, I guess.
Had dinner with Joe Hall. Lunch yesterday with Reb Livingston.
Lots going on. Life's good.
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