Looking at girls as if I'm in France I stand at the promenade and stare at everyone. It is a show of people. I sit across from the street king as the juggler performs beside us looking at girls as if I'm in France. I realize that I should have had a lot of sex when I was 15. Looking back, there wasn't any real disease to worry about but herpes and they say everyone has herpes. Cold sores my ass. But the girls I was surrounded by couldn't have had access to any real sick dick by that age. Damn. That would have been yummy. Instead I was horrified by sins and disease and morals. What a crock. Now I find myself leaning on a tree on the streets looking at girls as if I'm in France that I should have had out of my system 20 years ago. Then perhaps I'd be paying more attention to the juggler. But at 15 I was interested in women. Not the girls that surrounded me. I was interested in the April issue Penthouse Pet not the girl that was conditioned to scream if I showed her my wiener. I was curious about an aunt and her niece and was thoroughly convinced that all women everywhere were enjoying sex with one another. I stepped away from the king and met the girl in front of the cosmetics store. We walked up and down streets considering restaurants then walking away. It was quite some time and many blocks away that we decided on a Japanese place on the broadway. There was a small leaf that looked like a baby spinach so I ate it just to tempt fate... not to buy into the latest craze in illness. They're doing genetic testing on us with various strains of modified diseases from aboard their spaceship. Not to bore you but I couldn't drink a beer while sitting on the sidewalk. It was only allowed while inside. I had iced tea. Earlier we had walked to the theater for a movie but I have an aversion to people. There's too much flesh clogging up drains. So I oozed with the idea that I didn't want to sit in a room with all those people. I prefer theaters to be mostly empty. Less external distraction. But don't tell everyone it's best to go to an early or late show. My secret might get out and they'll all show up at the wrong time. A young brother walked by me and smiled his platinum grill as his friend complimented my shirt. A dream I had after I woke from a nap after a day. So I'm searching for "Gaucho" because the Santa Ana winds are to be stirred up this weekend. Up late and high. We got back up to our place and opened two bottles of wine: Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. Gaucho is scratched to hell but we'll see if the computer can read it. Angels only hear your thoughts when you speak... same as devils.