AN E-MAIL I JUST SENT A FRIEND, BY THE WAY, I WAS ALMOST 50 YEARS OLD THEN. . .

it's a quarter to seven am so saying call you in two hours rather than me saying
call me in one is just a little condescending, no offense
i tend to micro manage stuff so the things that get said to me, yes they get
a fine tooth comb treatment

sorry, i'm trying as usual to catch typing mistakes some
i do instantly, others i have to read the whole deal and edit it
and still some are totally missed

ok that's out of the way
pj (he always calls just before i know from the schedule, an iffy thing in sf, the schedule

is that the bus is coming, i better be out there waiting) is gonna come over today, not

right away i can hear the bath water
so i know, but the two hours, please, it's not about how long i'm gonna take at the market,

you
know, it's your convenience you're talking about, and i'll bet from the way you started

slagging kristin
at the beggining of the conversation you want to stay here, you think you will, you never
asked me if you could, ever, but you managed to the two first days you were here
since then, you've been there

i really don't remember anyone, that is NOT ANYONE, who offered me a place to stay after

haight street,
everyone seemed to think i was young and healthy enough to sleep in the park, and walk

around all day,
no one thought i might need a few minutes rest
c'mon people, raymond always cared, never said no, do you really think it was for the same

reasons
you thought in your minds, no i don't think so, you could have cared less what raymond did,

as long as he
didn't interrupt your smoking a joint in your living room, or distracted you from seinfeld
the bitch who threw me out, clarissa, actually promised me not to worry, i could sleep on

her floor
jees, imagine what i thought when that was confirmed a FICTION, or LIE, in my book
and oh, everyone thought that was terrible, but, this being america, we all still must have

thought what fun it was going to be homeless, except of course, i was saved for a minute, i

inherited gobs from a suddenly
dead father, and someone said, you can stay here (contingent of course, on my paying her

rent every month
that i wanted 'shelter', of course, i ended up paying her full rent every month)
so if you guys who live elsewhere, have any fantasies about life in america, just drop them

all and read this, it's a true story, true names were used, descriptions also, just sue me

for having been a thoughtless,
cruel bunch of assholes
as the straight jerks you think you are now, then you, as the total drug-user bums and

layabouts you were,
always had enough room on your floors, couches, and extra beds, for someone who only

benefitted you,
always contributing to your lazy asses, all his life
so, call me bitter in my old age, i'm not bitter kids, i just remember things as they were,

not how you want me to now, sorry
and i'll continue to, until i die, it's truly my prerogative, you can't take that away from

me, go re-write someone elses history, but not mine
thanks, and i still love you all, even if you ask me 'who could'
i can, and this is the land of 'yes, we can', or have you forgotten?