Tom Cruise' Boots

I have been having some big trouble getting to sleep and staying asleep. I told Christine that it did not feel like anxiety- at least not the traditional want to scoop my eyes out after pinching every assface who wronged me that week or this lifetime kind of feeling, just a kind of bodily tension, as if I had muscle in my body or something. So I had this really weird conversation with my legal drug dealer and he suggested the BIGGIES like trazadone ( to me that truly sounds like the drugs they give to actual crazy- chop up your grandpa people). He explained the uber sedating effects of the trazadone-ish drugs and then we just ended up coming back to clonk-you- on the-head- my standard drug of the evening. I had not had any clonk- you- on the head for a good few months; exhaustion and self-loathing was boring me enough to make me sleep at night until last month. This morning I was in this deep sleep and all of a sudden Tom Cruise and I are in this really swank hotel suite. He is too short- as he is- and way to all American boy- but he completely bonked my brains out. I mean it was teeth gnashing, eyeball rolling, back scratching boot knockin. When I woke up and remembered how mad Katie Holmes had been because Tom Cruise was bangin someone else, I wondered if Joel was going to be mad too. So I made Joel french toast.