165. The Malibu Years Pts XXII – XXIX

XXII.

I’m thinking about entering this year’s Malibu Chili Cookoff

I’ve been working on my secret seasonings.

I’m thinking of entering it undercover.

I need to think of a false name.

Like maybe Steve or Andy.

XXIII.

Surfing is big here.

Bigger than in Indiana.

XXIV.

Golf is the last refuge of the living;

that bridge between life and death.

XXV.

Often when I’m sleeping I dream of the California State Highway.

I dream about how flat and smooth and silent it is.

I imagine its tarmac and asphalt top layer cracking open.

In my dream I pull over and get out of my car.

I step over to the crack and I peer into it.

It is deep, but not that deep.

Inside I see all my family and friends.

Ex-girlfriends too.

Everyone I’ve ever known is there.

They’re all smiling and having fun.

They wave and say “Come and join us, Bill. It’s great here in this crack in the highway!”

But I never do.

I always step back from the crack and turn towards my car.

Towards the open road.

Then I wake up feeling funny.

Out of sorts.

XXVI.

I don’t ‘do’ sun.

It turns my skin

pink and

tightens it

like a snare drum.

XXVII.

I heard they were going to offer me the keys

to the city but I guess they changed their minds.

XXVIII.

I can watch porn for up to ten

maybe twelve hours at a stretch

I have one of the biggest porno

collections in California.

And that’s not me showing off.

- that’s a fucking fact.

XXIX.

Like Steve or Andy,

I need to think of a false name.

I’m thinking of entering it undercover.

I’ve been working on my secret seasonings.

I’m thinking about entering this year’s Malibu Chili Cookoff.

121. Europe's Finest Hotel (1991 tour)

I don’t like this
wallpaper.

The view is
bullshit.

That’s not a
bed it’s

a fucking postage
stamp.

The air-con
sucks

or maybe it
blows

either way – lose
it.

There’s no
absinthe

in the mini
bar

I don’t like that
concierge

he looks like
a narc

there’s only two
jacuzzis

where’s the
third?

The ceilings are
too low

or maybe the
floor

is just too
high

either way – change
them.

You could only
fit four

people in that tub
at a squeeze

is this some sort
of joke?

I’m tired. I don’t
need this.

Is this place
east-facing?

I specifically asked
for east-facing.

What’s that
smell?

It smells
like ass – lose it.

No white truffle
omelettes?

This room service is
a joke.

Those curtains are
fag curtains,

the tap water is
too cold

the gym equipments is
useless

the elevator is
too small

I don’t like the
architect

can we
sue?

I guess I’ll do
what

I always
do:

suffer in silence
because

some asshole in the
organisation

couldn’t be bothered
to find

something more suited
to my tastes

because it’s too
late

to change, because
I’ve got

a show to
do.

I mean what
city are

we in
anyway?