Dating in Hollywood

Two girls tell it to me straight.

"We don't care about money."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," they say. "You just went down in our book."

I think about this for a minute. Mmmm, I think. Okay. They don't care about money. I think I do. I think I like making money. Money is not a bad thing.

"Okay," I say. "I hear you."

I wonder why some people don't like to talk about money.

I used to not like talking about money. Whenever my ex-wife brought it up, I would say, 'I have to concentrate on my art. I can't work and write novels at the same time.'

Now I know I was wrong.

I am glad about that. It would have been tough to carry that story around, and expect to take care of myself.

I learn though. 'Bit by bit,' as Dacheux says.

Speaking of which, Dacheux and I had a nice soda at the Sabe tonight.

I loved how she called me out on my interaction with these cool girls I met.

"The one girl said her dream guy was a Rated G comic," I told her.

"Oh, that's perfect," Dacheux says.

"Yeah," I say. "But I could be the bad boy too. I got that in me."

"Yeah, right," she laughs. "You could never be the bad boy."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But, you know what I said to her after she told me she liked G rated comics, I was like, 'Fuck, that's great--I mean--excuse my language.' "

Alabaster, Dacheux's boyrfriend, cracks up at this. I am glad. He cracked me up with his whole penis puppet. He showed me a clip of Saturday's show at the UCB Theater. The skit was for the most foul sketch comedy show.

Alabaster (Allan) made a gigantic penis dance from his crotch and make lemonade. Hopefully he'll post it on his blog. Until then, you can read about it on JPosatko's blog.

Now I am going to draw the pictures that go with this text, as I saw it when I was writing.

Man, I'm like Jay-Z, what's up.

And on that note, one of the last interactions with the girls who don't like money.

"Oh, it's clear you love yourself," one says.

"Yes," I say. "That's true."

It will be nice to hang out with these new friends. The plan is Karaoke on Sunday. Maybe, we will talk about money. Who knows? If it does, I will tell you about it.

Bye,

P to the Z and not Q


p.s. i am

pss. so hum...