I Don’t Want To Talk About It

“Excuse me, I have a question. What is that bullet shaped gadget?” The bullet shaped gadget is a cigar punch. “Oh that is excellent” It’s been a big nothing kind of day. Not much interesting, not much going on, not much of anything.

I slept incredibly well, and I think Bill did too even though I had to tell him as he slept that he was snoring. Through the sleep apnea mask again. He is now officially scheduled to spend the night at a sleep clinic in a week or two.

I feel bad for him since it is a problem and the mask does not seem to be doing it’s job, but then again some weight loss might help. I don’t have the healthiest diet and I feel a bit hypocritical telling him that he should eat better, but I also do not want to come across as a nag.

Bill woke up later than he had hoped and kissed me goodbye as I lay there sleeping the sleep of what felt like someone who just smoked a tremendous joint. Not a bad way to start the day despite feeling sluggish. I shuffled about the apartment, turning things on, turning things off.

Coffee and cereal were my morning companions as I heard all about Occupy Wall Street and their plans to take over the world. Last night on the TV Bill and I watched some cointelpro yelling about how he was going to toss a Molotov cocktail into Macy’s.

Today was spent working with Frank Burns and he was in his element. Complaining of his bad back and how he was going to have to go to a cigar lounge somewhere and hang out since his boy toy is hosting it. No sign of Zack lately.

In the land of the cigar shack, no information on what is going on downtown. Just the usual customers sitting around talking shit which they do so well. And it’s definitely the luck of the draw today, Jerry Vale is kicking ass leaving Frank Burns and myself in the ashtray.

It’s pretty funny, I have some guy dripping in gold, nice suit and shoes and he buys the least expensive. Neck bone walks in looking like crap and proceeds to drop hundreds of dollars. I mean there is really nothing I can do about it, but I have never in all my life decided to kill some time browsing in a cigar shack and not buy anything like the fucktard that just came in while Jerry Vale sells ice cubes to Eskimos.

Less than an hour to go and it certainly cannot end fast enough for me. Just a dreadful day, cold and rainy and just dismal overall. Still both Jerry Vale and I are glad that Frank Burns is not here. He could be anywhere but we know he is at a cigar lounge with his boy toy.

So it’s win win for all concerned. Some Eire fan just came in and bought 2 cigars and paid in Sacajewea dollars which will be fun to count tonight and even more fun to deliver to the bank tomorrow for a deposit.

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