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oh, yeah... this is one of the things i didn't miss about my desktop parasite: a mailbox full of the labours of some pimply little bastards, that have nothing more constructive to do... like piss in the fast food, hurl rocks from bridges, pump their little puds 'til they're sore. it was much nicer not to even have to consider yet another way that people suck. yet, here i sit... with the antivirus grinding away. hmmm... what passes for "notoriety" these days. Aren't there bigger dragons to slay? ************************************************ I knew that they'd be laying in wait for me, as soon as i walked through the door on Tuesday... and i wasn't disappointed. no time to fart, much less update. however, now i shall pull on the virtual cardigan, sip the cyber laxative, and plop into the imaginary rocking chair, and wax mistily about the good old days. all five of them. ************************************************ So, yeah... my little getaway began with a head inflated to an unpleasant pressure. Along with the slamming of things into the tailgate, came a late call from the Soon Come Rasta, begging for two cases of hot sauce (which i hadn't prepared) for his restaurant opening had me kicking everything into overdrive. when you play, you pay. that's what they used to tell me. amazingly, i was only a half-hour late to pick up Biggles and his holiday gear, and we tore off towards Richmond on the first leg... so he could stop and dig through some records. and catch up with friends at the diner. about this time, i adopted the "getting there is half the fun" attitude. and, lo, so it was. photo ops, parts of the city i'd never seen (especially downhill, next to the old tobacco warehouses), a piece of vinyl i'd been looking for, for years, lovely alterna-waitresses... it was gonna take all day, instead of a few hours. and it was patented scorching Virgina-hot: radiating up through the sandals, the car seats a sweat factory, the air akin to breathing the steam from above a boiling kettle. ah, summer. i will carry a torch for you. remarkably, the horizon grew clearer as the destination came nearer... through the tiny collections of worn out towns on the blue highway, past peanut fields immense, even back on the twisted mega-interchanges on the way dead south. it was springlike on the final hour, at that point when the back of your brain tells you that there's big water nearby, though obscured by pines and the resort billboards of stores that push the envelope of childish penis jokes... "for the whole family!" hehheheheh... it said "nuts." and "dick!" no doubt tickling the fancy to fuck the whole experience... and feel used, afterwards? then, there it was... a sliver of a peek of deep blue, and unending sky. home, again. hi, mom.
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