Cologne Bandits
the company i had been working with for the last ten years was not only a causality of the war on terror, but was in a sketchy part of town. we had the occasional panhandlers, the guys sleeping on our back door step, and the weekly prostitutes strutting by our showroom window. However, we were never broken into, threatened, or even scared of the neighbors that that we communed with. so i thought moving to another sketchy part of town with another company would be the same old daily oddities. Boy was i dead wrong!
we have been broken into three times in the last month. the first time they kicked our window to our office in and took my two computers.. they left the monitors mind you, just took the hard drives.. no alarm sounded because someone had forgot to set it.. oh well, been set ever since and still has not deterred the bastards. they attempted to hot wire the work van as well..no such luck but they got my delivery drivers cologne! yes, they took his cologne, a power drill, and a GPS system.. funny the first time ... but three times later it is getting a bit boring.
the second time they broke into our phone box and clipped our phone lines because they new we had not forgotten to set the alarm, peeked through the window and noticed the alarm was still activated... so what did they do? tried to hot wire the friekin van again! no luck, just messed up the steering column, mashed up the key entry senseless and took my delivery drivers cologne! what could be so special about this cologne anyway??,,, is it the lost chanel #7 or some rare charlie bottle from the 80's.. hell i don't know, never been a cologne guy.. only wore it in high school once just because i had been doing beer bongs all night. i stuck to the old spice.. who wears cologne anyway.?. oh yea, the idiots that have tried to steal my van three freaking times! the second attempt was kinda funny cause all they got was the cologne and scared off because the alarm was actually set this time!
ok, the third attempted grand larceny... the cologne bandits strike again.!. this time they mangled the steering mechanism of the van again after forcing our locks out of the doors to get in. they had 0 luck again, but they got another bottle of cologne! at this point i am really starting to wonder more about my delivery guy with the endless bottles of cologne than the idiots that are swiping it from him.. good god, these must be some stinky scoundrels to go through 3 bottles of cologne over a one month period.. yes three robberies in one month.. makes you want to camp out on your roof and wait for the stu's to come back and just snipe them out of their misery.
this time i guess they were so frustrated they couldn't figure out how to hot wire the van for the THIRD time, or so high on cologne fumes that they decided to kick the window of our building in again... alarm sounded, police came, and bandits gone with the cologne.. end of story.. police said best thing to do was to "put bars on our windows and park our van somewhere else".. wow.. brilliant..
i think i am just going to start leaving a bottle of cologne at my front door step once a month with a note that reads "please take our cologne, we have nothing else, and if you haven't figured out how to hot wire our van after the third time you really probably don't have enough brains to figure out how to drive the damn thing anyway.."
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Dantes Inferno "the lost chapter"
I didn't realize that watching the last episode of "Pawn Stars" about Dante's Inferno, by Gustave Dore, with my seven and nine year old boys was a true epiphany of the six gruelling hours of an hour and a half movie of "Eclipse". yes, I thought I had entered Dante's version of hell on a ladder called "A Never Ending Teenage Tease Fest." the movie could have been summed up in five minutes if they would have cut out all the foreplay. With all those parts cut it would have just been a fight between a couple of wolves and some really pale white guys! then they could have named it "Extreme Pale Man vs White Fang".
Thank god for the sushi bar next door where I knocked down a nice bottle of unfiltered chilled Saki.. ahhhhh the high lite, the sushi, 22oz Sapporo, the Saki. it made six hours of mind numbing memories of high school "without fangs" bearable. someone even brought a three year old into the movie who cried incessantly throughout. i wanted to cry as well. the only smart one in the whole damn theatre was the three year old trying to escape from the utter boredom. Poor child is probably warped for life. will sleep with their parents till they are 16, and will dress in black the rest of their miserable mortal existence.
OK, so the vampire fans out there are saying I'm shallow, a bit old, irrelevant, just don't get it. I'm good with that. to each their own, next time i am sticking to my Saki going home, watching Pawn Stars with the kids and remembering Dante really does have a place for everyone, even it they are immortal..
Thank god for the sushi bar next door where I knocked down a nice bottle of unfiltered chilled Saki.. ahhhhh the high lite, the sushi, 22oz Sapporo, the Saki. it made six hours of mind numbing memories of high school "without fangs" bearable. someone even brought a three year old into the movie who cried incessantly throughout. i wanted to cry as well. the only smart one in the whole damn theatre was the three year old trying to escape from the utter boredom. Poor child is probably warped for life. will sleep with their parents till they are 16, and will dress in black the rest of their miserable mortal existence.
OK, so the vampire fans out there are saying I'm shallow, a bit old, irrelevant, just don't get it. I'm good with that. to each their own, next time i am sticking to my Saki going home, watching Pawn Stars with the kids and remembering Dante really does have a place for everyone, even it they are immortal..
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Truck Stop Heaven
So whose job is it to refill the condom machine at the truck stop? what is that show?, "worlds dirtiest jobs or deadliest jobs?" i don't know but the condom guy has to have both and live on the ultimate edge. every truck stop i seem to stop at always has that fort knox titanium condom box hung right in front of the jon. You have have no choice but to read whats in it or whose name and number is etched into the metal. I mean having your number for a good time on the bathroom stall wall is one thing but you know you have really hit rock bottom when your name appears on a titanium condom machine! anyway you cant help to read the sales pitch in front of your nose.
there are usually up to four different categories: edible, glow in the dark, bikini style, and around the world goodie bag. all three choices crack me up so much i can barely do the job at task when standing in front of one these coin pinchers.
#1 Edible?
who besides your dog is going to eat a condom anyway? how can a condom be appealing as a meal, snack, or dessert for that matter? i think i will skip my next meal now. they cant sell many of those and if they do they probably only have to fill that spot back up once a year if ever.
and who decides the flavor and whose job is it to be the condom taste tester anyway. oh, i thought the guy that refilled the things had it bad. i can see someone answering the classified ads now: "taste tester for savory treats apply today and get a free box of trojans." and the pay? i don't want to speculate but that might explain the hidden R&D costs of the products at hand. they have strawberry, banana, and chocolate. i can maybe see the strawberry and banana flavors being a hit for some psycho, but chocolate? i mean where does the chocolate thing stop? chocolate milk, chocolate covered almonds, chocolate covered pretzels, but chocolate covered peckers just freak me out a bit.
#2 Glow in the dark
i love this option the best. who in Sam's hell is going to make their family jewels glow in the dark? why do you need your member to glow anyways? its not as if it can be detached from your body. "honey, have you seen my pecker anywhere?" i swear i left it in the closet somewhere, or by the dining room table, where the hell did i leave that thing?,,, OH, here it is! we left if my the nightstand! good thing we had a glow in the dark condom!" NO NO NO it is attached to you for a reason--so you wont loose it in dark places! am i missing something with this purchase? i mean a glowing body part during intimacy is a bit disturbing.
#3 bikini
i am a man, why would i buy anything called a bikini to put around the most masculine thing of my body? why not just have a category for dresses, ties, hats, or sweater vests to wrap around your unit? i can see a whole new section in target or walmart now... next to men's fashions "pecker wear" i think that might not go over well, especially here in south kakalaki, maybe we could do a test market in Miami or Vegas.. anyway i am not dressing it up for the party.
#4 around the world goodie bag
the around the world goodie bag definitely intrigues me a bit. "party favors from around the world" Just what countries partake in this smorgasbord of a goodie bag, and who voted that country in for their mix on the intimate props? From the first three categories i would be scared to pay my 75cents in fear i would get a sample of all three of the the other choices.
Back to the question before us. whose job is it anyway to sell these machines, install them, and refill them? i can see the lucky soul traveling all around the country in their retrofitted oscar meyer car with boxes of refills. if they got stranded in the mountains across country at least they would have plenty of things to entertain themselves with and they wouldn't starve either! i can hear their sales pitch now: everyone who enters the men's room has a pecker, right? sold! who cant agree with that, and its cash. 75cents a pop and you keep 25 every time some poor curious patron decides to get slapped by his wife.
they should really have a separate machine next to the condom machine that sells latex gloves, so that when you slide your quarters into the crusty metal box you can be assured that you will be well protected before you are well protected... another job created for another day.. so next time your at the truck stop, get a good laugh while you are forced to read the wall in front of you.
there are usually up to four different categories: edible, glow in the dark, bikini style, and around the world goodie bag. all three choices crack me up so much i can barely do the job at task when standing in front of one these coin pinchers.
#1 Edible?
who besides your dog is going to eat a condom anyway? how can a condom be appealing as a meal, snack, or dessert for that matter? i think i will skip my next meal now. they cant sell many of those and if they do they probably only have to fill that spot back up once a year if ever.
and who decides the flavor and whose job is it to be the condom taste tester anyway. oh, i thought the guy that refilled the things had it bad. i can see someone answering the classified ads now: "taste tester for savory treats apply today and get a free box of trojans." and the pay? i don't want to speculate but that might explain the hidden R&D costs of the products at hand. they have strawberry, banana, and chocolate. i can maybe see the strawberry and banana flavors being a hit for some psycho, but chocolate? i mean where does the chocolate thing stop? chocolate milk, chocolate covered almonds, chocolate covered pretzels, but chocolate covered peckers just freak me out a bit.
#2 Glow in the dark
i love this option the best. who in Sam's hell is going to make their family jewels glow in the dark? why do you need your member to glow anyways? its not as if it can be detached from your body. "honey, have you seen my pecker anywhere?" i swear i left it in the closet somewhere, or by the dining room table, where the hell did i leave that thing?,,, OH, here it is! we left if my the nightstand! good thing we had a glow in the dark condom!" NO NO NO it is attached to you for a reason--so you wont loose it in dark places! am i missing something with this purchase? i mean a glowing body part during intimacy is a bit disturbing.
#3 bikini
i am a man, why would i buy anything called a bikini to put around the most masculine thing of my body? why not just have a category for dresses, ties, hats, or sweater vests to wrap around your unit? i can see a whole new section in target or walmart now... next to men's fashions "pecker wear" i think that might not go over well, especially here in south kakalaki, maybe we could do a test market in Miami or Vegas.. anyway i am not dressing it up for the party.
#4 around the world goodie bag
the around the world goodie bag definitely intrigues me a bit. "party favors from around the world" Just what countries partake in this smorgasbord of a goodie bag, and who voted that country in for their mix on the intimate props? From the first three categories i would be scared to pay my 75cents in fear i would get a sample of all three of the the other choices.
Back to the question before us. whose job is it anyway to sell these machines, install them, and refill them? i can see the lucky soul traveling all around the country in their retrofitted oscar meyer car with boxes of refills. if they got stranded in the mountains across country at least they would have plenty of things to entertain themselves with and they wouldn't starve either! i can hear their sales pitch now: everyone who enters the men's room has a pecker, right? sold! who cant agree with that, and its cash. 75cents a pop and you keep 25 every time some poor curious patron decides to get slapped by his wife.
they should really have a separate machine next to the condom machine that sells latex gloves, so that when you slide your quarters into the crusty metal box you can be assured that you will be well protected before you are well protected... another job created for another day.. so next time your at the truck stop, get a good laugh while you are forced to read the wall in front of you.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
KEEP YOUR BUTT IN THE CAR!!
OK, i know plenty of people who every now and again take a moment and enjoy a good smoke, we all have our vices and moments of bliss through altered states. all of the folks i know however do not discard the remnants out the friekin window! Driving another 250 miles today, i decided to count the butts on my windshield instead of the number of people texting and driving.
Desensitized for long enough, i am about to make my stand. if one more butt hits my windshield, my hood of my car, my front grill, or some narcissist rat with wings swoops down and chokes down another glowing ember and in turn spits it back out on my trunk.,, i shall slam on the brakes and walk the earth with a pointed stick and start a saliva collection of filters.. the DNA test in turn will prove WHO the filthy guilty parties are and in turn send them to purgatory! If Dante was alive he would have a special hell for these ruthless litterers of the world. lets see a stairway to lung cancer alley or how about just being slung into a big valley of spit squeezed from the cancerous cigarette butts that have piled knee deep into the millennium.. maybe i am being a little hard on the unconscious habit of the poor smoker who has been forced into submission by the marketing media geniuses. These litterers know not what they are doing because they either have smoke on the brain or have tarred their reasoning powers senseless. or is it unconscious at all..?? Lucid or not they are silently keeping our street cleaners in business, our roadways charred, and our beaches a vast ashtray. There are many forms of discarding the last morsel of these cancer sticks that these pesky litterers have mastered over the years. i have noted them all curiously and find each intriguing, comical, and sick in their own style.
the flick:
the nonsulant butt-head: the one who doesn't even look in their side or rear view mirror, a quick reflex, the thumb and finger tightly squeezed together and zoom it flies to the ground.. normally a straight shot away from the vehicle they are driving and onto oncoming traffic.. the car they hit never knew what hit them and the poor confused driver figures it must be starting to hail hell fire or that that McDonald's they just passed blew up and tiny french fries are on fire falling out of the sky. these crazed drivers are the true pyromaniacs. the folks who don't have enough guts to burn down a building or set themselves on fire. these are the true culprits the conscious fire mongrels that just smoke to throw little fire balls at people because they can, protected by their armor of choice and walking the line of litterer and arsonist..
the bomb:
not to be mistake with the conscious flick to oncoming traffic,.. this is the precise aiming and firing of a specific strategic target. Usually the car behind the bomber sees the incoming projectile and tries not to swerve into the 18 wheeler two feet to their left. so the bomb hits.. dead center.. the hood.. the windshield.. you look up and see the grimace of the menace. glaring back at you "take that you non-smoker!" he silently thinks .. one day his bomb will actually pay off, one day it will hit the grill and it will be sucked into the gas line and you will be forced to suck in smoke as your car explodes..
the fake:
normally a poser with "save the world bumper sticker" trying not to get caught.. or the school principal dressed in drag smoking a Virginia Slim thinking no one will ever catch them in the act.. it is almost a wave, yes!, it is a a half wave, yea a cross between a wave and I'm am going to hang my hand out the window and tap my fingers to this radio station. an all in one motion gesture so smooth that you almost don't notice that slimy fire ball rolling off their fingers into the wind, bouncing off the pavement and landing dead center of the hood of your car sizzling a nice quarter size hole.. I love that one.. the slanted eye glance the half smirk into the rear view mirror to see if you took notice to their little smoking game. they are the ones thinking "i am only going to drive around and smoke so nobody sees me in public, and if they ever drive with me in my car there will be no evidence of cigarette smoking, an empty ashtray and a scented Christmas tree hanging on the rear view mirror" they might as well drive around with a bumper sticker that reads "i smoke" cause anything scented hanging from a rear view mirror is a dead giveaway that something ain't right!
the inhale throw:
out of all the techniques this one grosses me out the most.. the very last deep inhale.. full mouth puckering, eyes sinking deeper into the cranium and the thumb finger throw out the window... man is that smooth.. the subconscious litterer at their best.. total absorption of the moment.. the inhale draw, the throw before exhale, meanwhile never noticing the fire trucks passing them or the mile high flames behind..
the utter rudeness, the out and out obliviousness and disrespect for ourselves.. is it so prevalent that people just accept it?? are not the 3x4 foot clean sections on the beach getting harder and harder to find..??? are kids collecting lipsticked stained menthol's instead of sand dollars and sea shells? is anyone on the same wave length?? should i just lighten up and light up? i still see the Cherokee on the hill, the tears of pain. that was the 70's, the land fills of desolation in our back yards. this is the millennium it is time to open our eyes and save our butts.....
Desensitized for long enough, i am about to make my stand. if one more butt hits my windshield, my hood of my car, my front grill, or some narcissist rat with wings swoops down and chokes down another glowing ember and in turn spits it back out on my trunk.,, i shall slam on the brakes and walk the earth with a pointed stick and start a saliva collection of filters.. the DNA test in turn will prove WHO the filthy guilty parties are and in turn send them to purgatory! If Dante was alive he would have a special hell for these ruthless litterers of the world. lets see a stairway to lung cancer alley or how about just being slung into a big valley of spit squeezed from the cancerous cigarette butts that have piled knee deep into the millennium.. maybe i am being a little hard on the unconscious habit of the poor smoker who has been forced into submission by the marketing media geniuses. These litterers know not what they are doing because they either have smoke on the brain or have tarred their reasoning powers senseless. or is it unconscious at all..?? Lucid or not they are silently keeping our street cleaners in business, our roadways charred, and our beaches a vast ashtray. There are many forms of discarding the last morsel of these cancer sticks that these pesky litterers have mastered over the years. i have noted them all curiously and find each intriguing, comical, and sick in their own style.
the flick:
the nonsulant butt-head: the one who doesn't even look in their side or rear view mirror, a quick reflex, the thumb and finger tightly squeezed together and zoom it flies to the ground.. normally a straight shot away from the vehicle they are driving and onto oncoming traffic.. the car they hit never knew what hit them and the poor confused driver figures it must be starting to hail hell fire or that that McDonald's they just passed blew up and tiny french fries are on fire falling out of the sky. these crazed drivers are the true pyromaniacs. the folks who don't have enough guts to burn down a building or set themselves on fire. these are the true culprits the conscious fire mongrels that just smoke to throw little fire balls at people because they can, protected by their armor of choice and walking the line of litterer and arsonist..
the bomb:
not to be mistake with the conscious flick to oncoming traffic,.. this is the precise aiming and firing of a specific strategic target. Usually the car behind the bomber sees the incoming projectile and tries not to swerve into the 18 wheeler two feet to their left. so the bomb hits.. dead center.. the hood.. the windshield.. you look up and see the grimace of the menace. glaring back at you "take that you non-smoker!" he silently thinks .. one day his bomb will actually pay off, one day it will hit the grill and it will be sucked into the gas line and you will be forced to suck in smoke as your car explodes..
the fake:
normally a poser with "save the world bumper sticker" trying not to get caught.. or the school principal dressed in drag smoking a Virginia Slim thinking no one will ever catch them in the act.. it is almost a wave, yes!, it is a a half wave, yea a cross between a wave and I'm am going to hang my hand out the window and tap my fingers to this radio station. an all in one motion gesture so smooth that you almost don't notice that slimy fire ball rolling off their fingers into the wind, bouncing off the pavement and landing dead center of the hood of your car sizzling a nice quarter size hole.. I love that one.. the slanted eye glance the half smirk into the rear view mirror to see if you took notice to their little smoking game. they are the ones thinking "i am only going to drive around and smoke so nobody sees me in public, and if they ever drive with me in my car there will be no evidence of cigarette smoking, an empty ashtray and a scented Christmas tree hanging on the rear view mirror" they might as well drive around with a bumper sticker that reads "i smoke" cause anything scented hanging from a rear view mirror is a dead giveaway that something ain't right!
the inhale throw:
out of all the techniques this one grosses me out the most.. the very last deep inhale.. full mouth puckering, eyes sinking deeper into the cranium and the thumb finger throw out the window... man is that smooth.. the subconscious litterer at their best.. total absorption of the moment.. the inhale draw, the throw before exhale, meanwhile never noticing the fire trucks passing them or the mile high flames behind..
the utter rudeness, the out and out obliviousness and disrespect for ourselves.. is it so prevalent that people just accept it?? are not the 3x4 foot clean sections on the beach getting harder and harder to find..??? are kids collecting lipsticked stained menthol's instead of sand dollars and sea shells? is anyone on the same wave length?? should i just lighten up and light up? i still see the Cherokee on the hill, the tears of pain. that was the 70's, the land fills of desolation in our back yards. this is the millennium it is time to open our eyes and save our butts.....
Friday, March 26, 2010
bit by a dog today
I was bit by a little ratdog today in the backwoods of south kakalaki. yes, a ratdog, one of those little red haired puff balls that people call dogs. It all started innocently as my life as a medical equipment provider in which i help those who are home bound and in need of assistance. Any kind of assistance, from getting their mail to providing them a proper fitting wheelchair. Over the last two decades i have been in more houses than the average census bureau mailer. I have been in multi million dollar houses, suburbia neighborhood houses, mill houses, to the single wides that one has to kick the chickens away from the front door to get in. Not just in the dwellings of all of America, but conversing with every homeowner, renter, and squatter that resides there. I have been a news paper boy, lawn service representative, gutter cleaner, dick van patten triple pain window salesman, cable guy, and medical equipment rep. i have put myself into some vicarious situations to say the least. i thrive for it. something new, the real thing, my own reality tv show with me as the producer, main character, supporting actor, and the sound chief. Just when you think you have seen it all you reach the next place of refuge and you realize you have seen absolutely nothing. And i mean NOTHING. My wife loves to hear of my daily escapades but has become desensitized from the utter brilliance and originality of it all. so here i am spilling the beans of what happened between me the windshield and a few hundred miles of driving over gods creation to witness beauty only found in the eye of the beholder.
Today i found beauty in the dog that bit me. I was driving my big bad silver dodge sport mini van up to my last patients home of the day. the only thing cool of my mini van is the little Jamaica flag sticker i have on the back window, a reminder of days that are forever etched into my soul, but that's for another day. As i pulled into the gravel mud driveway that circled around the double wide all i could hear were varmints barking even with my headphones blaring the Beatles on Pandora from my blackberry.
I have two dogs of my own, large dogs that one would never mistaken for anything but a dog. These particular animals, four or five of them, i figured were tamed rats or some kind of cross between a ferret and a large squirrel..Perfectly harmless i thought except for the screeching of a noise they made between their razor vampire bat like fangs. The patient i came to see yelled out the door "don't worry, they don't bite!" famous last words..
i got in the front door fine, then all hell broke loose and they cornered me. i started having flashbacks from grade school when my best friend sicked his dog on me and watched me hide behind his closet door while his dog tried his best to take a chunk out of my ass. my best friend was laughing hysterically till his mom came in and threw a shoe at him and that little mutt that had me cornered.. we are still friends to this day believe it or not, but that is only because i got revenge by inviting him over to hold my cat really close to his face, "because the cat will purr really loud if you do it" My friend still has a few scars to this day.
Anyhooos as i was having flashbacks one of the ratdogs, that didn't bite, took a chunk out of my leg. the black one, that looked like a doberman pincher on reverse steroids and about the size of a size 8 shoe, attempted to take a piece out of my ankle. "sir, your dog just bit me" i was ready for him to tell me that it wasn't his dog and i was inspector clusso. he replied, "that one has never bit anyone". As i grimaced in pain, i said, "so i guess your other three dogs have?" don't worry, they have all had their shots! don't worry isn't going to help my imminent infection or blood from ceasing to drip on the floor, but i felt better knowing i perhaps wouldn't be foaming at the mouth later that night. as i pulled out of the red clay gravel drive waving bye and wondering how i had the strength not to boot the pooch through the ceiling when it bit me, i thought "when he said they had their shots, can i really trust his word that those varmints weren't rabid in the first place? were those really dogs? and did that REALLY just happen?" I put the Beatles back on listened to "let it be" and i knew every little thing was going to be alright, even if i did have rabies.
One love road warriors,
Peace
Today i found beauty in the dog that bit me. I was driving my big bad silver dodge sport mini van up to my last patients home of the day. the only thing cool of my mini van is the little Jamaica flag sticker i have on the back window, a reminder of days that are forever etched into my soul, but that's for another day. As i pulled into the gravel mud driveway that circled around the double wide all i could hear were varmints barking even with my headphones blaring the Beatles on Pandora from my blackberry.
I have two dogs of my own, large dogs that one would never mistaken for anything but a dog. These particular animals, four or five of them, i figured were tamed rats or some kind of cross between a ferret and a large squirrel..Perfectly harmless i thought except for the screeching of a noise they made between their razor vampire bat like fangs. The patient i came to see yelled out the door "don't worry, they don't bite!" famous last words..
i got in the front door fine, then all hell broke loose and they cornered me. i started having flashbacks from grade school when my best friend sicked his dog on me and watched me hide behind his closet door while his dog tried his best to take a chunk out of my ass. my best friend was laughing hysterically till his mom came in and threw a shoe at him and that little mutt that had me cornered.. we are still friends to this day believe it or not, but that is only because i got revenge by inviting him over to hold my cat really close to his face, "because the cat will purr really loud if you do it" My friend still has a few scars to this day.
Anyhooos as i was having flashbacks one of the ratdogs, that didn't bite, took a chunk out of my leg. the black one, that looked like a doberman pincher on reverse steroids and about the size of a size 8 shoe, attempted to take a piece out of my ankle. "sir, your dog just bit me" i was ready for him to tell me that it wasn't his dog and i was inspector clusso. he replied, "that one has never bit anyone". As i grimaced in pain, i said, "so i guess your other three dogs have?" don't worry, they have all had their shots! don't worry isn't going to help my imminent infection or blood from ceasing to drip on the floor, but i felt better knowing i perhaps wouldn't be foaming at the mouth later that night. as i pulled out of the red clay gravel drive waving bye and wondering how i had the strength not to boot the pooch through the ceiling when it bit me, i thought "when he said they had their shots, can i really trust his word that those varmints weren't rabid in the first place? were those really dogs? and did that REALLY just happen?" I put the Beatles back on listened to "let it be" and i knew every little thing was going to be alright, even if i did have rabies.
One love road warriors,
Peace
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