Sally take my hand

Greetings from the barren wasteland.

Directly east of the strip. 

They're shutting the water off in my building again. From 10am-12pm. This is the third time this month the water has been shut off in my building and it's only the 9th. Quite possibly another reason why tenants don't stay. Along with not allowing pets in the building. Games? 

Where have all the pretty things gone? The beautiful feminine pretty things? When my girlfriends and I were young and adorable all our clothes were pretty. Our dresses were worn to wrap us up shiny and tight like a pretty martini glass over lacy lingerie and garter belt. Chic black. Floral pattern. Elegant pastel. Royal blue. Ruby red. Now it seems girls just want to be socially wrecked and naked with a stitch of fabric here and quite possibly there, leaving nothing to the imagination, only, most young females who dress this way do not have the body for it. But that's not the point. A random naked woman is as useful to men, as a random naked man is as useful to women. Serves no purpose. 

I care more for the moth who flew into the middle double panel glass window I cannot open. Poor thing flew in, apparently could not find its way out, and died. And there it now sits. Dead. Sadder still I cannot retrieve it until I find a very long skinny stick to scoop it out. Poor thing. Every morning when I open the blinds and windows I see the dead moth. What an omen. Perhaps I'll leave it there. One day someone will find us, the two pretty things that died and shriveled in this apartment. 

"No one gives a tinker's fucking curse!" 

The English are very good at swearing. Poetic. That little gem comes from the movie Phantom Thread. I'm jealous. When I curse it means I was unable to find a word justifiably equivalent to when I think something is absolute shit. 

I'm the first to admit regarding social improprieties my generation (X) are incredibly lazy. We'll complain about it, oh you betcha, but we won't do anything to change it. Unless of course you consider Falling Down, doing something. My generation is very good at Falling Down. Furthermore my generation did the worst job raising children. Isn't that right Aunt Becky? Much like how Baby Boomers are excellent at blaming everyone else for the woes in their lives. Never taking responsibility. Oh my goodness no. Can you imagine a baby boomer taking responsibility for their own failures? No? Neither can I. I've yet to meet a common baby boomer who wasn't selfish. They only do things for others if they think they'll be praised and rewarded ten fold in the end. I don't mind when people take from them. Not at all. Take everything they've got. 

There's a movie I want to see, ROMAN J. ISRAEL, ESQ. I don't know how I missed it. I like Danzel Washington. He's among the rare dying breed of great gentlemen actors. 

I am of the belief that regardless of your occupation, you will do much better when looking and being your best out in public. Especially women. I find myself judging women even more so as I get older. Is this the best job you can do? Is that man the best you can do? Wouldn't you rather starve? Why there aren't enough women in the arts is because they aren't willing to starve and suffer for it. Had my friend Simone hung herself because she couldn't bear suffering for her art any longer, I could reason that. But she killed herself over her sufferings of men, over one sided love, and I simply cannot, will not let that go. 

I finally saw the film, Professor Marston and His Wonder Women. It was a pretty picture  but unfortunately the movie was a long boring dick pic of a film. If Angela Robinson wanted to make a soft core porn, than that's what she should have done. Not this. 

What we need is another Sparticus, Gone With the Wind, Raging Bull, Godfather, Titanic, What's Eating Gilbert Grape, something, ANYTHING about anything not sex. That's what pornography is for. And let's face it porn really only needs to be about five minutes long. A giant variety of five minute porn. 

When I step into a movie theater, when I watch movies at home, I want a story. Tell me a story. Make me feel something, make me think about something, else. 

I always stick around longer when there's something else. 

Something better.