Come Hither, Fat Man

I'm not as far away as I should be from flinging my air conditioner out the window. It's making a rattling sound that is entering the base of my spine and making me want to dance, but it's not good. In an Elaine from Seinfeld kind of way I feel the need to kick and jump around. I've jammed pens, wads of toiled paper, tape and a stuffed animal into various places around where the window touches the AC. But just like any other problem, all was finally solved when I went vaguely apeshit and banged on it, It's a lot quieter now...I hope I didn't break it.

A few nights ago I got high and drunk and I must confess that it was rather nice. Those who know me know that I have a strong inclincation to take off my clothes when I drink too much. This time, however, I just took my pants off, and it was brief. If you've seen my naked legs then you know that this habit needs to stop. Later in the evening, when the room began to spin, I was reminded as to why I so rarely drink alcohol.

So apparently Paris Hilton has to pee on a stainless steel toilet, alone in a 12 x 12 foot cell, for a little more than three weeks. I hope she keeps an intricate diary. She could be the next Sakharov or Nelson Mandela, or maybe not. Her mug shot looks like the look I get from a woman who wants to borrow money from me, and will even consider fucking me to get it. Either that, or she wants to "borrow" my last handful of Vicodin.

Fuck you, Paris Hilton, get your own drugs!

Word on the street, or in a magazine, is that a picture of her pooping on a toilet/sink combo or doing just about anything else in prison will net you $500,000. When I was in jail briefly for shoplifting years ago, a cellmate offered me $5 for a picture of my right knee. Needless to say, the deal went down.

Madam Hilton also gave a little press conference about her prison stay. She said that she hopes she is a role model for young women, that you have to take responsibility for your actions. That's an interesting take. Keep in mind that she was caught and taken to jail pretty much at gunpoint. If you don't take responsibility then, they'll come and find you and make you take responsibility. The lesson I think that she is trying to relate is simple; Don't get caught.

I should probably mention, lest I give an inaccurate impression, that my stay in jail was brief, less than a day. My nuthouse stays have been pretty long, up to two weeks, some of the time was spend in restraints, but that's different. I was trying to be a role model for crazy people that they need to be tied down against their will and medicated. It's the altruist in me.

But why am I talking about Paris Hilton? She's really not that attractive...skin and bones. She's certainly not all that bright. She was just lucky enough to have rich parents. When I used to hang around with a couple of friends I used to know, who had a lot of friends over at Harvard, I used to go to parties with a lot of people in similar circumstances. They whined a lot about their parents, and clearly got into Harvard because of someone's influence. They all looked at me as if to say, "Why are you here?" I didn't let it faze me, and went about my business as if my parents were rich, too. Little did they know that I was a revolutiony socialist who wanted them all working in the Gulag. Ha!

And I guess that that is one reason I've decided to write about Paris Hilton. At little bit of shaddenfreude on a Tuesday morning. And I confess a strange sexual attraction when I imagine her pale heiney poised above that prison toilet, her face twisted in a knot. That's the third time I've mentioned it. Since she has no television, and probably can't read, she'll probably bide her time counting her bones, all of which are clearly visible (and I'm sure palpable) beneath her alabaster skin.

Enough of that.

My father is in the bathroom right now trying to give himself a haircut. I did that once, when I was about age 10. Apparently, that notion becomes unattractive in adulthood, but regains appeal again after age 70. He's cultivating a look, methinks. The look of a man trying to save a few bucks on a haircut.

A shout out to Bipolar Chica! I hope you're doing well.