On a day off, I am taxed, relaxing, I sit in bed scratching my balls only when they itch of course with an occasional repositioning of the goods. No beers, no coffee, no hangover, but I still have a headache, what the fuck is what the pain feels like. Howl done, now to Bukowski, It makes me wonder how Thomas is doing, what Thomas is doing. The picture isn’t so clear, so pretend you were alive in the pre-TV era and listen.
