pretty bad A.S.S. blues

The mighty Insect Slayer is currently cruising with Trish-uh! in her bat-mobile (www.onewest.net/~jbauer/batmans.car) while I sit at home, poisoned as though by curare by a harsh rejection slip from some Australian Space Shit. This morning the alarm clock disturbed the dream work while it was still all rosy cross, so I took a shower & nearly forgot to take my medicine. I didn't realize I hadn't taken it until after I reached for my toothbrush. The water bill arrived this morning, 5 buckadingdongs 'cause Karen had overpaid it, so we took some money out of the Iron Claw Credit Union while Trish walked to work & I went to the Silver Rectangle Upstairs to see Joe (Nobodaddy calls him by his last name). When the session was about over Trish called to say McPizza gave her the day off. We ate at the Soup Kitchen, where some nutty Fundamentalist was raving about the da Vinci Code & the Gospel of Judas & didn't have a clue as to the history of Xianity. We went out to Fat Albert's Sons to pick up some diet Mr. Fruity, cereal & veggies. Trish cleaned house up to a few minutes ago, when she left for her TA & I had her T&A last nite & God said it was good, & un-Leary of Kimothy.

I suppose that I'll get back to work on "Relayer" but I'm a little afraid to. After having my Space Literature badly insulted by an amateur publication I'm feeling hurt -- but I simply must remember that it's an amateur publication, so unprofessional behavior is to be expected.