Journal Entry for 4-16-93 (Bitter Betty, LSD Anniversary)

I can smoke today (although I would even if I couldn't). I changed my answering machine message and am very happy about that. I think I'll call Bitter Betty and let her in on my ever changing message machine dementia. She'd like it. Maybe she'd even fuck me. And I could cup her swollen tit in my hand.

Oh, and today is the 50th anniversary of the accidental creation and use of the drug lysergic acid diethalmide. Said the creator, Albert Hoffman, who now resides in picturesque Switzerland, "It can be dangerous in the hands of the ignorant."

59761 -- D

59572

59481 -- D

59532 --

60026

Journal Entry 4/93 (Date Approximate -- Colony Inn Era)

 Opening Sentence

1. I upchucked last night.

 

2. Perhaps that second Tsing-Tsao was a mistake. Or it could have been the red tag "reduced price" beef...nah...

 

3. Have you ever sweat poison out of every pore? And then that's not enough, so you empty your stomach contents. After that, the bowels and bladder let loose. If you live through this toxic purging, you will have some cleaning up to do. It is best to throw away the undergarments. 

Last night's episode took me to the stomach stage. It was grisly enough. I barfed on the floor and on my pillow. I did not even attempt to get up or to remove my face from the puddle for a full five minutes. 

Then, I suddenly (or so I thought) stood up, washed my face and collapsed into bed. This was possible for me to do all at once with no intermediary actions because I live in such a small apartment that the floor, sink and bed are all in standing or collapsing distance. 

Somehow my pillowcase (now discarded) had been concealing a leaking feather pillow inside it, which has leaked its wretched innards all over the floor. Must be catching...