Dear Diary

Ok, the shrink says this is a journal or "feeling log", but sounds like a diary to me. Yeah, so I haven't kept up with my entries. I missed an appointment with the therapist too. They hunted me down in some bar called The Naked Turtle on the East side of Cozumel Island. Apparently, I'd gone on a total bender and drank myself crazy for a few days. I don't remember it. I remember the Naked Turtle, though. They had monkeys. I like Monkeys. Monkeys are funny. I was standing there, watching these monkeys, though, and some dude yells at me "Ten Cuidado, Sr! Los Changos se gustan tirar caca!". I was so drunk, it took a minute to sink in and the d@m# primate got me right in the face with a wad of monkey poop. It was all stuck in my nose-hole. Sometimes I wish I had a regular face. I can create the illusion, and even make it tangible, but I have to think to make it tangible and thinking wasn't my strongsuit just then.

Anyway... so I've got this new monkey-rug at my place, but it's awfully small. I just use it in front of the door to wipe my boots on. Stupid frickin monkey. Guess it's back to the grind. I have to go see the head-shrink after work tomorrow. Wish me tolerance.

Hung over in Hades,
Reap