5/20 - day 14 - a week of piss wedder, sunday's window spent wrangling kidz and wrestling w/ the garden n' chores n' what-have-you - union bidness at the close of day, my wits as always confounded n' humbled by the human machinery of government made flesh - the ghost of winston smith haunts me, but it's a special merry kind of fool who can't make lemonade out of a luscious afternoon of sun and rushing warm air gusting down the gorge - get on your fucking horse, dr rick marshall!
kenny's rig in the lot, him and sneezy-jim already up the spike route i reckon - i settle for a sleazy saunter up the big rock, lost in the gauzy thoughts gamboling through my thick head - the moon waxes great, will the wedder-gods set me up a solid?
fosters on the falling back, cops holed up n' counting donut-holes at cape horn - thank christ i don't have a cigarette to shit on this wondrous scene