Carl Westcoat is upstairs, plastered. Where'd he do it? Where else-that Devil's Den, the Atlantic Cafe. I swear, it would be for the good of mankind if that place would burn to the ground.
I didn't have one word to say to Elliot unless he said something to me first today. Tough shit to him. He ranks as the #1 bad influence in my life of all time.
I figured out Denise today in an interesting analogy. She's the million dollar prize in the lottery and every guy in Robertson's is buying the tickets. Everybody wins but me. She is a strange character, though. I'd love to know why she went back to Elliot.
Yesterday afternoon I told Steve I wasn't going to Jack's party because I had no reason to. He said I was right. This morning he shook my hand and blamed himself for me not going. I told him I had already made up my mind not to go. Steve's OK. He can be my friend again. He's back on the list. I even lent him $10 today. Everyone has to prove their friendship to me now. Some just have to prove more.
I'm going to RI's game tonight, so if I'm not too tired, I'll write before bed.
(PS - I've only got 3 pages left in my notebook.)
Again, in retrospect, I grossly overestimated Denise as a fine and desirable young lady. I think that if someone felt they had a chance to fuck her, they probably went for it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment