well i'll be goddamned.

friends comin outta the closet, howdy, pleased to meet me, what the fuck took

you so long?

wanted to watch and see, huh?

one day we'll look back on all this and laugh.

no, sorry, just lashin out, i feel you helpin me along, how do you think we got this far?

just don't talk to me about my website.

no one is, but we know it's up.

hm, humdinger conundrum knockin on heaven's door, hi ho, i'm hopin this is how it's supposed to happen, artist in training proper respect, unless, hm, don't tell me, could this be ya all joining hands and handling me in light of tragic childhood, which is what' been demanded all along right? Fuck if i know, hey everyone, let's ask a nailbiter!!!!errrfuckity'all help me out/don't. who cares?


i need to buy some books again, huh. kicked out of public library til fall, fine fuck you, please be civil, don't make me knock you down again.


books about writers of strories i like.

ok, that's next on list. y'all buyin stock in halfprice uncorporate ha ha books, correct? we all know the ghost of john gardner nearly killed me in 1999, no he was not drivin a little red corvette, smart-ass, but he sure was my ruling template prince.

why? shit-fer-brains, made everyone else the boss of me. ok, i don't understand gardner's stories, yuk, if that's college level material i'm goin back to oprah's ass.

so if i don't understand his genius why keep thinkin i can learn from him?

it hurts my head, he makes me feel stupid.

just not ready for him, does that sound right?

dr. little-bit did help me out on this though, he prolly got me writing at least a little-bit after readin garden-stopper's art of fiction, aka "give it up, ya'll suck!" sexy asshole angry moralist-fist-fightin-teacher-man, fuckin went out in a motorcycle crash, is that not total elegance personified or uh-oh sorry ma, forgot to take out the trash.


that's the whole problem with men when you're fixated at 6 years old, they are gods, see (some bad things men do can be handled, like losin my clients clothes at the cleaners and sayin it's my fault-lotties tho, drippin insicors, killers in the house hi mom etc) so when a man is bad he is wreckin bad, blow the whole house down wreckin plant, devastating, follow?)


but dr. little-bit didnt go all the way w/me-got confused when i needed him straight, dr. disobey on the other hands knows exactly where the fuck we're at, sight unseen after 2 year absence.

i need this, b/c where i am is creative process, very scary, plus learnin i'm retarded, waking up and my whole house is facing opposite direction, dr webaster says, it's your muse, she won't stick around forever, deal with her lottie shit, is worth it, no, can't, lotties are big threat to me right now, stoppers, who handed out permission slips for women to fuck around in each other's bidness this way man, leave me alone, i can no longer look in your eyes, wrenching disappointment, shame of my own ovaries, you can't comprehend this cognitive process, is at least one step above directions on shampoo bottle, ok bitch you asked for it, am trying to come to terms with senseless IQ scores, the retarded part wouldn't bug me if not for the gifted side,  see, the implications, destroying me, imagine if you will wakin up tomorrow and your haircolor had reverted to its original shade and nothin you bought could bring back the blonde, see, now you get some idea, it's hard, huh, flaming fires of human existence, make-up counter closed down and this was your big night to pretend, oh well, read more of this, it will straighten your wig out in 2 hospitals flat.


so i go into dr. disobeys office, discouraged (me!) and he goes

what is it now trouble?

lotties pickin on me.

you make your choices in this life, nothin good comes free.

i see they got to you too, huh.

troublewaits your magnum opus?

i dunno (seriously, webaster what the fuck does magnum opus mean? is it sexual, hope not, picked a bad time to be sexy in trouble town)

hey. life is short, get it out there, do it now, you're self-destructive and middle-aged, i'd go home and get it out there fast as i could if i was you. that's all she wrote, hear what i'm sayin?

your shrink talk to you like this? he better.

otherwise, raise your standards, call them out. that's question number one:

can i get your phone number?

in 22 years fighting my stand in moms and dads everyone comes out clean on this score, and yet, it has been brought to my motherfuckin attention that this is not 100% guaranteed. you can't get ahold of your shrink after codeine od? stomach pump, lost and lonely, supposed to survive on your goddamn memories, christ, what is this?

unacceptable, creeping psychopharm paradigm, refuse it, ditch 'em. tell them why, be loud about it too please.

tangent, goin off on tangent, sorry ole wavey arms where was i? john gardner, right, sorry,

ok, i love love love gardner's students, starting with sacred container of disposable people, Raymond Carver, come on in, beautiful, help us destroy our wreckers who fix us, wow, just today me and webaster talked about him today, his encounter was great, Ray read CATHEDRAL on steps at Stanford. Then he went home and died. For you. Show some fuckin respect, generation eccccch...

My Raymond Carver story is so fuckin shitty i just can't ruin a beautiful Sunday afternoon telling on educated adolecsent robin-stoppers with it, but i remember what you people did, fuckin goatee-wearing college pussies, wait til i get my bearings on this.


ok, we all know nothin. we're a happy family. don't treat me with fuckin reverence, dig?

you know me? we got history? then you're awed is all, seeing the power of your personality as translated by me, mirrors-r-us.

we are still each others mommies; freaks and beats who pass for mundane in front of people too scarily stupid to think twice about (let me handle that, funzapoppin sez inner 6 year old, long time fuckin comin, ya think?!) while our apron strings join together, stay together, grow into bearded lady's braids, all free and go on forever, wrappin around planet x like a typhoon, howdy partner, just in time for the stranglin ceremony, yee haw!!!!!!


loveya/fuck off,










Copyright 2002 Robin Plan and troublewaits.com.  All rights reserved.