No blue car visiting the bitch last night.

I’m doing some laundry right now, then it’s off to shower, wash my hair, and shave.

Tom crashed a little while ago and plans to get up towards the middle of my day (I got up at 3 PM) so we can have our Friday fun.

Later…

Blue car’s visiting the bitch right now.

Boy, am I gonna have to make up for the peace I’ve had over the last several months. Not even Caddy Kid has been by in a while. I don’t have any bad vibes in particular for the winter, but I know how it works with me and with most people; we must be compensated and we must pay for life’s blessings. If there’s no trouble with music and I don’t have to have them evicted, then I expect there’ll at least be several ball games. The neighborhood kids, including the Lopez’s, will play ball regularly. I’m sure that on weekends, the bitch’s gal pals will bring their mistakes over to play for me, too. I’m sure these mistakes will want to play ball on their own, but I’m also sure that they’ll be coaxed into it, too.

Thank God this bitch can’t have a pool put in.

Speaking of our infamous bitch, it just left in the blue car, but I couldn’t see who the driver was because I didn’t want to be seen. The bitch looked right at me, too. And that’s not the first time, she seemed to be looking right at me, either. It’s more like the third or fourth. At first I said to myself, I don’t care if they see me. I have a right to look at my window at anything I want, but then I said, nah. The purpose of spying is to be undercover. Also, if they saw you, then did something to the house for it, you know you’ll go over there and beat them beyond recognition, and you don’t need to go to jail or put yourself or Tom through any stress. Remember, these people are crazy. And if I did anything to them, no matter how much they deserved it, these sick fucks could gun me down. There’d be no defending myself against bullets.

This bitch really gets around, huh? So what will its weekend company be this time around? The dark blue car? The light blue car? The white car? Oh, definitely the white car. It seems to be the most prominent visitor around lately. Will it be cool enough for the mistakes to play ball? I kind of think it could be 120º and they’d still play ball if they really wanted to.

Later…

Haven’t seen Mama Cat around in ages. I don’t miss her, either. Daddy Cat still comes around here and there. It’s getting hard to tell Blackie and daddy cat apart, but daddy cat has long fur.

Woke up at 113 pounds Wednesday, 114 pounds yesterday, and 113 pounds today. At the end of the day, I jump up as high as 117 pounds. I knew I would, though, because weighing under 115 pounds is still new and completely foreign to my body. Guess I was right when I foresaw 118 pounds becoming a thing of the past. Not that I may not get up to that a few more times before I sink even lower. And remember, Vegas is gonna set me back. If I go to Vegas at 115 pounds, I can count on coming back at 120-124 pounds. My measurements just don’t go with my weight. At 115 pounds, I have a 29” waist, yet when I was around this same weight in 1986 I had a 26” waist. You definitely don’t look the same at certain weights at different ages. If I ever got back down to 100 pounds again, I wouldn’t look like I did the last time I weighed 100 pounds. I’d be an inch or two bigger.

Later…

I was watching a case of incest on Trial Story on Court TV. There were two daughters and one stepson charging their father with raping them 20 years earlier. The father ended up convicted. It was a jury of six women, though. Had it been men, he’d have gotten off.

I could sort of relate to what the victims were saying, even though the abuse I went through was emotional and physical. You can’t ever have your childhood back and you can never forget. Two of these three victims still love their father, too. How do I feel about my folks? Nothing. Just dead nothing. No love, no like, no hate. Like these victims said - they’re a closed chapter in my life. They were people I once knew, I had many more bad times with them than good, and now they’re in my past and I’m getting on with life.

I feel bad for these people, though. Just like with me, their childhood has affected their adult life, and when it’s not, you’re so busy struggling and working hard to keep it from affecting your adult life.