I was covered in dirt earlier tonight. JDG and I went for a leisurely ride up to Gloucester, where it eventually turned into delusions of cracking cops over the head with metal pipes and stealing cop cars and trafficking cocaine, etc. I got my first flat tire in this new car on a dark road, next to a swamp, with not a hint of light anywhere. After one unsuccessful attempt at getting the car on the jack (boy it�s scary when a car falls off of a jack), a police car pulled up, and gave me some light. I was initially nervous for some reason. Perhaps it was the hash we consumed a minute before this pit stop. He helped me get the tire off as it was stuck on there, at this point I was completely dirty and sweaty. We got it off, and put the new one on, and the car fell off the jack again. The cop went into �cop mode� and was a big help with us. Afterwards we discussed writing a letter to the local paper thanking the police, and signing it with some fake names, sort of an inside joke. �sincerely, Travis Bickle, and Randy Rhoads� . I also asked JDG how he would have reacted if while the cop was bent over doing something I hit him over the head with the crowbar and told him we needed to get away with the police car. What a trip that would have been. Could you do that and then stop and say �I�m just kidding, just fucking around, here, here�s some ice for your head�? It initially looked like we were doing something suspicious on the side of this dark road in the trunk, like �getting cocaine ready� or something. Fuck a mother fucking flat tire.

It is now evident to me that this Parliament CD does not follow the �Track 8� rule correctly, as this song is a boring ballad.

I have nothing else to say tonight, I feel hot and bothered or what is it, hot and cranky. Enough. Fug

before & after