While I was at Border's Books, I noticed all the calendars for sale were 16 month ones. What kind of pessimist buys this because he assumes he's only going to live until April 2010?
On my way to Border's, I was walking and up ahead saw a street musician playing a saxophone. I ALWAYS give a dollar to artists on the street. I know what a hard life it is so I can certainly spare a dollar for someone who walks the same path as I do. So I stopped and opened my wallet. I STILL have trouble with my fingers and had shoved the bills in my wallet in such a way that I had to pull it all out to find a dollar. The saxophonist kept his eyes on my hands. I unfolded the wad. One $100 bill, 6 20's, 2 tens, 3 fives. Great. Because I don't go out all the time, when I do, I take out enough cash to last a while. I finally found a one dollar bill in the middle of the wad. Good grief, how could I give him ONE DOLLAR? Fortunately it was stuck to anther single so I gave him two. Big spender here.
He stopped playing and stared at me. Ohgodohgodohgod he was going to call me a cheap fuck. Instead he said God Bless You and I felt bad all day. Anyway, never pass by an artist if you see one on the street. Even a quarter helps them. I might set up shop on Hollywood and Vine and do some mime. That ought to bring in the money. Or serial killers.
Sidebar: My sister and I used to sing on the streets of Paris when we were teens. When I moved to San Francisco I got a gig opening for the band Sopwith Camel. AS A MIME.
Below I'm perforning for children in Golden Gate Park. I was holding a wand over a boy's head trying to
Below I am doing some extremely retarded movement in a transparent attempt to look professional. Two of My Gays were with me and you'd think they would have saved me from this humiliation but they were too busy LAUGHING AT ME. 
Did you know that mimes can't talk? EVER? Certainly not my field of expertise.
End of chat.
