acid rain

You know, when I had my old truck, I refused to wash it. People would make all kinds of stupid comments, you know, since you could barely tell what color it was. (It was red, under the quarter-inch layer of dust & bird shit.) When they asked me why I never washed it I would tell them that since it wasn't really mine (my reasoning being that I was still making payments on it), why the fuck should I wash it? Let the finance company come downtown & hose off the fucking truck! Anyways I guess I'm a little less...I don't know, whacked out of my head these days. So I've taken to washing my new truck a little more regularly. Of course, since I'm a man on the go who also happens to be a miserable cheapskate, I go to the self-service car washes. Oddly enough, it kind of relaxes me. I used to rush through it like it was a chore to be dispensed with in as little time as humanly possible, but now it's an almost meditative experience. The place I usually go to, a few blocks down from my girlfriend's house, is convenient because it's a few blocks down from my girlfriend's house, but the change machine never seems to work, & there are invariably a ragtag assembly of middle-aged Mexican dudes who stand around the parking lot drinking beer & pissing against the walls. Kind of like an inner-city "King of the Hill". I'm such a creature of habit that it's already hard to imagine patronizing another car wash but it looks like I'll have to spread my wings & take flight. Maybe the one up by Santa Monica & Cahuenga, it's just that there's so much traffic up there, it doesn't seem like it would be as relaxing. But hey, maybe it'll teach me to "tune out" my aggravating surroundings, now THAT would be meditation!

So Rodney Dangerfield died today. It's not like he was cut down in his prime but I'm still bummed. I always thought his character in "Easy Money" was the most admirable portrait of the modern day "everyman". Fuck that "HCE" shit, James Joyce was too in love with his own writing anyways. And what the hell would someone from the UK know about being an "everyman" anyways, all that aristocracy & criss-crossed bloodlines. How can an "everyman" sit down to tea-time?! And if Joyce was such a genius, how come no one can wade through "Finnegan's Wake" & be able to tell one page from the other without checking which page is dog-eared! Genius isn't worth squat if it isn't accessible, right? I mean Van Gogh was a fucked-up guy & no one really knew what kind of bizarre ideas were floating around in his one-eared head, but even a small child can enjoy looking at a print of one of his paintings. What was I talking about...oh yeah, Rodney Dangerfield. He was one comedian who consistently made me laugh, & who never seemed to be copying anyone else. In fact, I would say he set the standard. Seems like he was just being himself when he was doing his act, which is always a huge plus. Not like these smug dipshits & ghetto-tastic stand-ups who think they're rock stars.

By the way the melatonin isn't making a difference yet. Maybe I could dissolve it in a shot of Jager.