Fresh off the recent publishing of Not Bukowski, Brian is at it again, this time releasing chapters of a possible new book called Dear Dairy – not a typo.
Ever keep a diary or a journal? Yeah, Brian neither.
So why not start now?
Follow along as Brian delves into…well…whatever it is that he delves into.
Did you know that it is Shower Liner Season?
What is that?
Well, it’s when I come to the realiztion that it is time to change out the shower liner. It just takes a bit of time. Hence, why I refer to it as a season.
It all starts while showering one day and thinking “Hey. I could use a new shower liner.” I then do this for the next 20 days or so…
Until, I finally breakdown and actually buy said shower curtain liner.
But the season doesn’t end there. I hate hanging shower liners. My arms get really tired doing it. (I know. I know. Poor baby.)
So I put the liner on the bathroom vanity. It stays there for two weeks as if I am showing bathroom guests that “Coming soon! New shower liner! Check out our Facbook page. #theseason.”
Then I muster the courage (sometimes in liquid form) to hang the liner. I start with the first hook, trying to still keep the shower curtain attached… which it doesn’t. As I progress, I come to the realiztion that I have an extra hook.
So I go back on the liner and count the grommets (What a fun word!) and it dawns on me that it wasn’t Lin Shao who made an imperfect curtain. It was me not being able to accomplish a seemingly easy tasks.
Ow. My arms.
Finally, it is all done and I am sweaty. Boy do I need a shower. I jump in, turn the water on, and promptly pass out from the overwhelming smell of plastic.
Until next season,
It’s the middle of the night.
I’m awake but my wife isn’t.
Both reasons involve pee.
She needs ambient sound to fall asleep. Her choice tonight is an app that plays the sound of rain.
It was a free app.
So it sounds like four people peeing on dried leaves.
It works for her so she won’t believe me.
I am going to get dried leaves in the morning.
Do you know four people who would pee on them?
I really like my new Doctor. She gets me.
Recently, she changed one of my meds to Zoloft… yep, it helps with the voices.
I had been on Prozac, which stunned her. She considered it outdated. She also wondered if I suffered from chronic diarrhea. I guess it is a prevalent side effect. I assured her I was good.
She then asked about how many milligrams. I told her and she said that was a strong amount but then again it was an older drug, so things were made stronger. She said the next dose up was the highest and she wouldn’t give that even to an elephant.
I looked at her and said “You do know what you just made me visualize.”
“Yes, of course.” she replied. “Elephant Diarrhea.”
Have I mentioned that I really like my new doctor and that she gets me?
Car broke down…well, not broke down…battery just decided it needed some time off.
I know. Big deal. Shit like that happens to everyone.
But before you go back to not paying attention, there was irony involved.
Actual irony…not the “rain of your wedding day” fauz irony… I really am on the case of these rock ’n’ roll folks lately , huh?
No. My battery went dead at a gas station, right at the pumps…after pumping gas. Still not ironic…but here it comes…
The station had no jumper cables. None. Zip. Zero.
Ironic one might say.
And neither did any other person there who came to get gas etc.
Well, except for this one guy. He came into the gas station, backed to the pump…and slowly got out…walking with a limp. I asked him if he could give me a jump. He replied that he could but first he had to fill his care as it was on fumes.
He limped slowly to the cashier to prepay….and minutes…many minutes later, limped back eating a toaster pastry.
He started to pump the gas.
As he finished, I got out of my car and popped the hood.
He looked at me, jumped in his car, and squealed out of the station lot and away.
Must have been something in that pop tart.
Skin is weird. We all have it. Do you? Maybe you have moleskin. I hear people with journals say that. I think it’s a Hipster thing. They ruin everything, including moles.
Anyway, I got looking at my skin today. Mostly, because the other day, I cut mine… on a Meat Thermometer.
I bumped it and it popped point up. Fortunately, I grazed the sharply sharp end and wasn’t IMPALED! with STIGMATA! type precision.
Just a cut. It’s healing now. Which led my brain into its skin thoughts.
It’s amazing that skin heals itself by regrowing. Then it knows to stop growing. Or does it?
What if it is always growing? What if I now have skin on top of my skin on top of my skin?
I’m not fat. I’m just skin-layered.