May 31, 2007
So come on, buck up, shake the shit out and letís go. Like I said at the start, Iím still here. Still fuckiní here, man: New York and planet earth. So itís not so bad, right? Iím an old fart, increasingly given to clumsiness and forgetfulness; watching the wrinkles deepen, the eyelids droop and the nose sprout mad black hairs like I have spiders living up there. I fall in the street and fuck myself up. Canít remember what I did last night even though wasn't drunk. Alzheimerís is coming. Hell with it. Still got wine. Still got you.