I wish he would move to Montana, and never come back.
I'd be happy to pay for his one-way bus ticket.
I saw him open the door of Vesuvio, and yell inside, making the bartender mad.
I saw him last night yell at an elderly couple saying things that I can not really repeat on a general audience blog.
One would think a restraining order for a year and a half, and countless brushes with the law would teach him a lesson.
It actually did for a while, but Elvis is back to his old tricks, much to the chagrin of everybody.
I don't seem him as serving any purpose whatsoever.
The only thing that made me laugh about him is he and Bambi Lake look so similar in appearance that they could be siblings.
Both of them can go to Montana as far as I'm concerned. Maybe they can get lost in the mountains.
One sec, let me articulate this....
Elvis: Jack! You are a piece of s***!
Then Coffee James said, "I second that motion."
C.J. is another guy I can do without. My new name for him is 'Mr. Inspiration', because if I followed his example, I would, every night, drink half of a coffee, smoke pot, and cruise chicks if any are around. Gee, maybe I should change my life to this, and I could inspire all around to follow my example. All it makes me think about is my entire life I was told to 'set an example', and you know what? It just doesn't work. So much for Mormon Propaganda.
Anyway, Mark Collins doesn't mind if I use his name in various projects and cartoons. I think that is pretty funny, and cool of him.
Mark used to know of two other 'Tony Ryan's'.
There are thirty 'David Lovins' in the United States, at least, so what does a name matter?
Anyway, Jessica was silent last night. I guess she was taking a day off, which I was really happy about.
I saw last night Marcus come to life when two women were near him, then as soon as they were gone, he went back into 'Moe Sulking Mood'. He relies on other people to entertain him, which is something I could never do. I'm a grown man, and at the very least, I would bring a notebook and a paperback to entertain myself.
I have no idea how some people can stare at a wall for four hours...every night.
Yes, I am really bitter and angry about some people, but I try to mind my own business. When I get drunk, little under the breath comments come out of my mouth, which reveals my true feelings, and makes me laugh at other people's expense. It is a lot of fun.
Basically, people don't think much of me, so in return, I don't think much of them.
I don't go to the bar every night to win a popularity contest. That would never happen anyway, and I don't care. I do have work to do, though, so I try and do as much as I can each night. It is not easy to make art, which is why most people don't do it.
Anyway, there will always be people who look at my art and say nothing, and some are regulars, and some are strangers.
I have taken into consideration that I am not very approachable, but it depends on a variety of circumstances, like my mood, and whether or not they think I am a freak, or just some guy making art in a bar.
I don't worry too much about writing about people I don't care for much...they don't read or look at my work anyhow.
I look at their table, and what they are doing, and I see nothing.
I do wonder about people who say they are writers, though. When in hell do they do it? I sense a lot of hot air.
What in hell do they do? Drink for five hours per night, and then write seven to ten pages a day on their novel during the day? If they did that, when do they work? I have no idea?
I also really wonder about poets who don't carry a little notebook around. What if an idea comes? All I know from personal experience is that if I don't write the thought at the time, it will always be forgotten, or different then the original intention when I try to write it down later.
One thing I can't stop thinking about since some of those bums drink in the alley is, "What if I brought a beer from another place, and hid it in the plants when I was inside? Then I could have a beer both inside and out."
I would get into trouble for that, I'm sure, so I'll just keep watching the bums drink outside. After all, it is a public street.
I did see three bums kick out the bum with sunglasses. They all ganged up on him, and kicked him out of the area, which I was happy about, because I hate the guy they kicked out.
It is funny to see a hierarchy amongst the homeless.
Quite frankly, I wish they would all go away, but that gonna happen, because remember, everybody, they are people, too, and they have rights!
I wish Bo would learn to draw, but that ain't going to happen, either.
How'd you guys like my rant today, two people who read this? haha.
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