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| Perhaps partially feuled by the retarded death of Cris Kirkwood. As I'm driving my SUV to the sex products store, I get cut off by a woman turning in front of me in her SUV. Oddly enough, she's going to the store, too. I berate her for almost killing me, and she apologizes, and then I feel all guilty. She goes into the store and gets cigarettes and leaves. I'm in the store, and chatting with the owner, then after a bit I go outside and hang out with some homeless people. One of the women wants to have sex with me. Knowing I'm married and that this could be a shakedown of some sort, I laugh it off. The look on her face said she was honest and true about the offer. Oh well. I end up in a restaurant around the corner on the way home with one of the homeless people who's fallen out of favor with the gang. He has nothing but bad things to say about them, but gives me a note from them to me. I never read it. I leave the restuarant and run into Randy Pelosi, the guy who played the sax in urban structures around Chapel Hill (well, that's what I thought in my Dream). From a distance, I listen to him on this building's rooftop garden that for some reason is at street level (perhaps because this street is higher than a block over, where the buildings entrance is at and where I was hanging out with the homeless people. I wake up. Pocus wants out. | ||||||||||
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Jason! - December 30th, 2003
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December 30th, 2003December 30th, 2003December 30th, 2003 |
Jason! - December 30th, 2003
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