Last Updated on Tuesday, 22 June 2010 10:16 Written by George Tuesday, 22 June 2010 10:16

B.P..

Pamela

Last Updated on Tuesday, 22 June 2010 10:16 Written by George Tuesday, 22 June 2010 10:16

I was nervous as I climbed the steep stairs. I had mixed feelings about Pamela. After all, she had palmed off Nancy on Ed and I had been left in the cold—I spent a miserable couple of months hustling Main Street. At first I didn’t recognize the woman who was sitting cross legged on a mattress on the floor. Her blue slip was above her hips and I could see her almost hairless vagina. Next to her was a wooden Celtic harp. But what really shocked me was…..

Arthritis

Last Updated on Tuesday, 22 June 2010 10:16 Written by George Tuesday, 22 June 2010 10:16

Yesterday the arthritis was so bad in my hands I could hardly write away on my memoir. It seemed that everything was buggig me at once–my aching back–my gimpy right leg and I had trouble focusing my eyes. I was feeling dreadfully lonely but then I hooked up for coffee with Martin and the loneliness left. When I got home I put the heating pad on my hands and watched Bill Maher on TV. Cornell West, the Princeton professor was on his show. He seems l