Gratified that the Arsenio hall barking shit finally faded away. Watching a George Carlin special from the early 90's. Granted it was filmed in Jersey, but part of the crowd responded to him with that insipid hand gyrating dog pound woofing crap. Was a mutated catch phrase that clung on to idiots much longer than even that waaaazzuuuup cultural tumor.

I think I am still a latch key kid.

Still either getting the gang together to play or couching it in front of the boob tube, until the adults show up. I should wear my apartment keys around my neck with a long shoelace. I should come home to discover that I lost one of my shoes at work. I should have leftovers in the fridge to raid. Break out the second hand clothes and cheap Zips sneakers, messy haircut, and scrapes on my elbows and knees from tumbling around in an abandoned lot. I think I slept better when I was a full fledged latch key kid.

Still have the silly television addiction. Good thing t.v.'s dont have vaginas, or I'd never leave the livingroom. Alright they'd have to have cute feet too.

My great uncle Georgi almost died watching television. He passed out watching Charlie's Angels in the middle of smoking a butt. I'm sure the Schlitz helped. Woke up surprised to be on fire. Amidst his recouperation at the hospital it was discovered he had early stage cancer. Don't recall what type cancer. But they zapped it out of him. So I guess television cured him of cancer.

As I recall Georgi was quite the uterus stabber in his day. Went through much of the available pussy in Oshgosh. Still a steadfast bachelor. Wonder if he's got latch key in him. We should have a sit down. Gotta find out if television will almost kill me and then subsequently cure me of cancer.