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Starving, Hysterical, Naked

Allen Ginsberg. HOWL

Not me–at least not today. Ho hum… so boring.

It’s the title of my lucky journal. I won a 100.00 bet in it. It was one of situations, you know, the overuse of the male ear about the worst relationship of your life you didn’t know you were in. Finally, he said, after the gazillionth break up and my saying, “I won’t ever talk to him again” — i’ll bet you 100.00 you will–no contact for a year or you’ll owe me! “You’re on”. I’m always up for a good bet. But it meant no reading the usual emails and letters from monster guy that predicably came a week or two after. The deal was, delete them. Now that, I’ll admit was a challenge.

Anyway, one year later I pulled out the ‘Starving, Hysterical, Naked’ journal where we signed the bet.
He rained a bunch of 20’s on my head in the cafe. But how do you take 100.00 from someone who emotionally saved your life? I had no problem.

Later I got an email from him saying ‘When does a man pay a woman to not have sex?” Funny!

This isn’t really what I wanted to talk about.
But it’s a good start.

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