8:50) chris abraham 09-JAN-98 16:36

i sit here alone. the cd whirs, the other cube has a person in it. i only hear my own voice yabbering on, with the echo effect presseded past the reverb feedback and its me at the bottom on a hole 555 feet deep. the martha washington memorial. alone. thinking maybe i am ocd. seeing the way i can waste three weeks cleaning up a 1br pad for the visitation of one cool chick and a finnish femme formidable for the space of but a couple days. need booze. need ash trays. need fresh oj. cereals: muesli, grits, bran. fruit for the juicer. wine. whisky. lighters. shampoo. its funny when the decision to buy condoms enters your mind. since i have made a vow of poverty and celibacy it always seems the furthest thing from my mind but it isn't. i always wonder what it would be like to make love to every woman. any woman. no men. if i were bi, says woody, than i could have twice the opportunity and double the people in my dating pool. some say the male to female ratio in dc should me