by James Jarvis
excerpt from
Offline Journal of The Damned
Offline Journal of The Damned
Creepy went to bed with all the lights on in his room after I kicked the wino's ass out in the street in front of the Arco. Apparently he's afraid the wino violence will spill over from the Arco to the Motel Marquis. Silly man. It's the other way around. I am the violence and I'm spillin' ever which way.
I went for a midnight stroll in the fog. Cabbage Patch was leaning against her lamp post.
"Heard you kicked ass tonight," she said, grinning.
"Where'd ya hear that?"
"Sout ona street. You do that?"
"A wayward ho, a wayward le, a pirate I shall always be. Arrrrr arrrrrr arrrrrr."
"I heard THAT. Good fer you, Popeye."
Even $10 street walking crack whores don't like rude winos.
There's a new crack ho working the sidewalk in front of the motel: a cute 18/19 year-old Latina. A white Toyota pickup pulled up in front of the motel and dropped her off. I had the $10, but last night I saw the same john drop streetwalker Marie off and the night before Cabbage Patch and the night before that really raggedy blond and I lost my appetite. The chain chain chain of hoes was just too much reality to get much bang out my ten bucks.
I saw "Monster's Ball" down at the promenade in Santa Monica last night. Nice movie. Made me homesick. Also reminded me of an interracial relationship I had 8 or 9 years ago. Uh, two relationships, actually. No, wait. It was three. Must have been my black and blue period. One of 'em was REALLY hot. We broke furniture.
Okay. I think I've mastered sex and violence. Time to work up an interest in avarice and covetousness.
Tags: sex and violence, crack motel, south central, the ghetto, bum fighting, street fight, strawberries, street walkers, hoes
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