Get them hammers out of my head.

No more birthdays. That beautiful California sun? Flooded my room this afternoon and hit my eyes like stinging lather. Tongue's still furred. Throat: raspy dry. Bad tequila hangover from Hell. I gotta fill this screaming white monitor with some words to shade my damn eyes. At least the Bub's that dark blue. Took four Excedrin and started reading some of the new stuff. That Star Trek "Crew" script. It's the weekend man and I'm still half bent. Reading that thing was like work. I'll finish it manana. Promise. The Beatles? Aren't they dead? No really, aren't they? Robin Williams. Yeah, he's annoying. Like a chirping cricket you can't find in the house at 3AM. But he was buyin' last night. Re-ceeding hairline. Yeah, yeah. I'll see it when I look in the mirror and be sure to hum that Diamond tune. But I ain't goin' back in that bathroom 'til the maid cleans up the floor. Knew I shoulda put that wastebasket next to the bed. Neighbors. We had the Hensons down the lane from us in Hot Springs. They didn't have a dog named Mike or nuthin' but they did have a daughter, Phoebe Gray, four years my junior, who sure looked sweet in denim shorts. Her Daddy walked me off the yard with a shotgun at my back. No 2^nd part to that story. My Aunt Jeannie Lou. I ain't heard from her since she left Uncle Earl 30 years ago. Like she'd even have five dollars to her name. Hold on. That was room service with the bloody marys. Time to end this anyway, every keystroke's like a damn firecracker. As for the site, I just wanted to say that it needs a little more sizzle. Know what I'm talkin' about? A little more of THIS!

-Posted by Billy Bob Thornton, my former alter ego.