it's been this way for a week. guy can leave a twenty on the counter and it will sit there for four days before i need it. food in the house, coffee on the counter, tecates in the fridge, smokes in my smoke box. i'm set. no need for twenties, which i often used to spend on condolence prizes every day that i attended work.
more and more each day i see signs of the going getting weird and the weird turning pro. -(HST) There is an unusual instance of cars with the boot and for sales signs in their windows throughout the City. Vinyl lettering litters back, side and bumper-ends of cars all over the freeways. they advertise for maids, yard cleaners, cat sitting and babysitting. they advertise for guitar lessons. i see limos parked on odd side streets looking like they've been there forever. now that wouldn't be a bad place to live (vs the tour egg). i know someone's calling it home. the smell seeps through the aluminum and infects the air with sadness and immobility.
rot.
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