It’s been a week since Barry McLarry dumped me. I will spare you the details since I wrote about it last week. The closet queen from Manila in exile, Lita Semana rules her roost once again, her Filipino underlings at her beck and call while Shamalama Khan tried to tell people that Lita has no power over these Pinoy pussies.

When Shamalama Khan told me that I chortled in his face. Minutes later Lita Semana waltzes in, says something in Tagalog, and the Manila miscreants spring to attention like an activated butt plug that was planted in each rectum sprung to electrical life simultaneously.

That was near Burroughsian if you ask me. Or as the kids today say, ‘If you ax me’. A former fool of a supervisor had that gutter Brooklyn accent when axing questions.

I heard from Daisy who is sitting at what used to be my desk. She told me a pair of sneakers were left behind. I asked that she donate them to the homeless, put them in a bag, and place them in a clothing drop box, which I am sure she passes in her travels to and from work.

I remarked even in my down and out spirit, I look out for those who have less than me. More christian than most christians as Bill has said about me in the past. Daisy seemed to agree. Then again this was all via text and she was at work so who really knows?

I was able to give some cigar swag away that I have had for years and never did anything with it. A nice cigar ashtray and a cigar humidor. I have been chatting online with a dude named Mike Handy who works nearby at the Jersey City/Hoboken border. We finally met this afternoon. A good dude it seems, a good connection and friendship will ensue I hope. He certainly is a handsome man and quite sexy.

I’ve been maintaining my step count each day. I used to do that at my break time in Tribeca in the afternoons, but that ain’t happening no mo’. It’s a relief to not deal with Tribeca and the boredom in me that it created. Of course, if I was asked back to work in that area again, I wouldn’t say no. Since no one is asking, the answer remains no.

And Michael Palin seems to have written when the spirit moved him. I can’t say I am moved by the spirit to write, but rather by the compulsion to write.

I spoke with my sister over the weekend, and I expressed a ‘worry’ about how relatives will take the news of my recurring unemployment. I posted a meme a few weeks ago on the social medias that said partly if you have a day job to get by, you’re still an artist.

It may have been one of the first times I brought up that I am an artist to my sister, but having written that, I remember talking about how Bobby Risotto (a former supervisor to me & the ax lady) didn’t appreciate my photos, and what did he know?

I was an artist. And I still am.