Walking around Hoboken on yet another gray dismal rainy morning…true we need the water but my mental health is paying the price.

Good old Mike called me up at 8:00 this morning when I’m still in bed and I can’t take the call because Bill is still in bed so that was unnerving.

Be will more than likely be bothered by that Mike not Bill well maybe Bill is bothered by it I’ll never know until he explodes in a few days.

A cast of rogue bastards:

Murvin Oralis an IT guy that I worked with last year when I was suffering from a Great Depression and he thought it would be funny if he made a joke about me killing myself

It wasn’t that funny a joke and I confronted him about it.
When I went to the holiday party last year he was quite apologetic but the deed had been done and his bald head showed that there was nothing underneath that skin

Rhianna Dias the fluid thing quite stupid and quite pretty and petty daughter of Raoul Dias so she seems to be untouchable and could never do anything wrong even though she’s quite the idiot

Barbara Mohan the CEO’s assistant I always liked her though Raoul warned me not to trust her but I found her to be more trustworthy than Raoul sometimes

And Joselito Semana the queen of the Hop, a fat closet case who is so deep in the closet that he got married and had a kid so that nobody would think he was sucking cock but there is sucking cock and booth stores and bath houses in the metropolitan area.
I do not know this for a fact but I have seen the pear-shaped type before

Brian Calamaras professional twat and an alumnus of my high school. This asshole is an idiot that walks around like he has a load of shit in his pants and can’t find a comb, dumb as fuck. Somehow this chinless wonder got a woman to marry it.

Don’t know what else to say right now. I am about to walk over Grand Street at 11th Street.
It’s damp but it’s quite warm I’m just appropriately dressed yet still sweating like a horse.
Empty Chick-fil-A garbage is on the sidewalk because you know Chick-fil-A consumers are not necessarily the best or the brightest and don’t know how to dispose of things properly except other people’s rights.

So it’s off to the supermarket for me just to pick up a few items and just to get out of the apartment. Bill is in his gray area and with the two of us in gray areas and gets quite bleak and doesn’t serve anyone any good if we’re both wallowing.

This is the first time in a while that I took notes while walking down the street reciting things into my phone we’ll see how that goes perhaps I can send it to Gemini if they feel like cooperating today and perhaps Gemini could take these words and put them into some sort of readable shape

Bill likes to eat while watching the television in front of him. I opt for sitting at the table in the kitchen and reading while I eat, the TV set volume loud enough for me to hear it. I generally eat around 6 PM so it is usually the news I am listening to, and since I get the audio and not the video, it’s akin to listening to the radio.

When I was growing up we ate around 6 PM Monday through Friday, weekends were loosely planned. Sunday dinner was at 2:30 usually then around 7 we would have a pie from Lodi Pizza. They didn’t deliver so we had to pick it up. I remember my brother Brian going inside to get the pizza and while he was inside waiting for the pizza, he would order a slice for himself.

In the 90’s Brian was upset that our brother Frank’s family didn’t all sit at the table to eat like we did when growing up. I guess Brian made sure his family all sat at the table for dinner. I explained that maybe Frank didn’t want to do that anymore and allowed anyone to sit and eat wherever they wanted.

That seemed to give Brian the realization that one does not have to do what they were told to do when they were being brought up. Christmas Eve was the time when we all gathered at Brian’s house, his wife Karen slaving in the kitchen over a hot stove, making foods that our family would enjoy. And we did enjoy them.

Time moves on, siblings die, relatives have catastrophic illnesses and things don’t go back to doing what they used to be. That’s life. No one has picked up the Christmas Eve banner so nothing gets done and that’s alright I guess. Took a while to wrap my head around it though.

I didn’t realize how bad a catastrophic illness was until I saw the victim and learned how bad they were waylaid. When my mother was still alive we would gather in Lodi on Christmas Eve and my Mom would fry up some eggs and bacon and sausage with coffee.

Basically, it was breakfast at midnight. Drinking coffee that late didn’t affect me then, now if I have a cup at 7 PM I will have great difficulty sleeping hours later. I generally stop drinking coffee by noon to avoid these dilemmas.

Today Bill and I strolled around Hoboken, working on a personal project. We did it yesterday but our submission was rejected. We walked and wound up at Guitar Bar where we asked Mr Wonderful himself, Jim Mastro about using the 503 Social Club facility as a space where we might produce the podcast.

My former Algerian colleague Pablo Solano has a podcast on YouTube regarding comic books and the movies that are being made these days, The NerdGen Report. A friend from the social media with kissable lips, Von Harris has a podcast on Spotify, Beers, Bourbon and a Movie, and Superman’s Pal, Rand works on a weekly webcast for the Hoboken Historical Museum.

I was interviewed on the Hoboken Historical Museum chat before the pandemic and I had a good time. Bill and I discussed some things with Jim Mastro and he was most agreeable and supportive, like I have always known him to be.

Spalding Gray’s name came up and I mentioned picking up the torch and running with it. Spaces like The Performing Garage are unobtainable to us, and the germ of the idea of monologues took place in my mind at Maxwell’s which of course is no more.

I reckon podcasts have taken the place of performance spaces in this internet age and it’s up to me to join Pablo, Von, and even Rand to join the podcast pool. Things are progressing nicely I think.