This a hot room. No a/c. No fan. Window up but shade 3/4 down. Neighbors walking dogs twenty feet from my computer. Crickets. Razor scooters. Swagger wagons.

Recreational runners.


Bicycle helmets.

Recycle bins standing lonely guard duties beside each and every mailbox.

Yeah so like ok

also my hot room is half dark. GG Allin is in here singing about Ensenada and Echo Park.

I mean singing and playing acoustic guitar on YouTube.

Yeah. Hold on there is more. Additionally,

my body is a river of sweat and I ate too much pink bday cake.

A cake that I baked, Jake. Oh and

I got a new car today. Right now

I can hear The Office from several rooms away. When I was in there it was Seinfeld. Before that: King of Queens. Jerry Stiller is everyone's father.

Isn't he?

Also I recently re-watched Zoolander and Tropic Thunder. Both are masterpieces.

Anyway. I guess I am here to tell you hey I am living. No a/c and no goddamn riches but doin just fine nonetheless. If you make it to farm country be sure and stop by. We can set a spell on my porch. Sip lemonade as the sun goes down. After the elder folk read from the Bible we can sneak off to the hay loft. Ooh wee. And bitch I know you know what I'm thinkin happens after that yeah.

All up in that shit.

Touch me baby.

Tainted love.