#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
3 small boys run toward me blowing whistles and they scream you’re under arrest! you’re drunk!
R.O.T.C. (Reserve Officer Training Corps) was for the misfits. Like I said, it was either that or gym. I would have taken gym but I didn’t want people to sec the boils on my back. There...
they stop out front here looks as if the car is on fire the smoke blazes blue from the hoo… the motor sounds like cannon shots the car humps wildly
Jane, who has been dead for 31 yea… never could have imagined that I would write a scre… days together and
let me speak as a friend although the centuries hang between us and neither you nor I can see the moon. be careful less the onion blind th…
kool enough to die but not kill I take my doctor’s green pill drink tea as the sharks swim through vases o…
you consult psychiatrists and phil… when things aren’t going well and whores when they are. the whores are there for young boy… men; to the young boys they say,
no we can’t we can’t win it I’ve decided we can’t win it just for a while we thought we cou… but that was just for a while
my mother, father and I walked to the market once a week for our government relief food: cans of beans, cans of
boy, don’t come around here tellin… can’t cut it, that they’re pitching you low and insid… they are conspiring against you, that all you want is a chance but…
he buys 5 cars a month, details th… them out, then resells them at a profit of one or… he has a nice Jewish wife and he t… bangs her until the walls shake.
I found that the only way I could keep from dizzy-spelling into my case was to get up and take a walk now and then. Fazzio, a supervisor who had the station at the time, saw me walking ...
she pulled her dress off over her head and I saw the panties indented somewhat into the crotch.
people went into vacant lots and pulled up greens to cook and the men rolled Bull Durham or smoked Wings (10 a pack) and the dogs were thin and the cats were thin and the cats learned h...
The boys on Dorsey station didn’t know my problems. I’d enter through the back way each night, hide my sweater in a tray and walk in to get my timecard: We had a game going, the black-w...