yar har har...
hello --
i am en cabo san lucas - just smoked a blunt on our deck which overlooks the sea of cortez and her orchestral pouting, relentless. it rains but 7 days annually, there are gorgeous birds and beautiful flowers abound, the food rules, the girls are decadent and sensual with their flamedancing... who else --
my whole family is here and we have an amazing suite which is a mile from downtown cabo. this is the place where you walk around and turn down offers of cocaine, mota, ladies, and other substances to waste your money on, only to fully agree with your intoxicated mind when he groans "maan... it was worth it!"
mi hermano and i went for a walk the first night in town, and twently minutes later we were recieving a handful of marijuana for 200 pesos (20 american bones). it is a very still stoned - and i hear pancho villa breathing against my breast everynight i stay awake talking to the mooon...
all sounds pretty decent, right?
now the lame aspects of now --
prior to leaving chicago i had a little happening at my apartment. initially i wanted to have a reading and enjoy the company of good people over wine and weed and ginsberg, but that didnt looke promising at 10:00 - as no one had showed up except for pete and chandler. we figure everyone is bummed about the weather and wont come out. at 10:30 or so a few folks showed up which is a nice surprise. then a few more, then a few more that were invited by the first gang of few more... all is well - people are having a good time, laughing, drinking, recalling humorous events of the past, all is fine... then the devilmancloud comes into town.
suddenly i am in this fucked up mood. i feel like locking my door and sitting in the dark with a joint and the tao te ching and that picture of the asian girl laying nude on the kitty pool/raft, and listening to the smiths. i feel like i am leaving to go back to albuquerque (as i was going to catch the el to ohare at 4am), and i just want to transcend the social happenings for a while; clear the brainmachine; pack my clothes; maybe sleep a halr hour...
so i do these things.
i am first awoken by kati who is the sweetest girl in chicago. she tells me how appreciative she is for inviting her over and such. we talk about the next few weeks of our lives and then she is on her marry way to leave with brendan and i am on my merry way towards slumber.
i sleep a little. li po reads me a poem and.. OH SHIT! CHANDLER: IF YOU READ THIS, GO TO THE APARTMENT AND FEED THAT LITTLE GUY. BUY SOME CRICKETS AND I WILL HIT YOU BACK WITH SOME CABO RED...
so then i wake up to the sound of my landlord saying "Do you live Here?!? No?!? GET OUT!"
she kicks everyone out. i am kicked out of the apartment, and we can no longer have shows or any happenings at the graveface headquarters. reason?
justin taylor broke a window after yelling at the hipsters that live below us. this selfish act brought the cops sirening and now i can no longer enjoy the greatest apartment in he city of chicago. plusi need to some how get the money from justin to pay for it - phones aint be working down here in mexico.
all is well though, no worries...
i feel as though there is some other really scary aspect to my life right now --
perhaps another bowl will refresh the noggin...
i am en cabo san lucas - just smoked a blunt on our deck which overlooks the sea of cortez and her orchestral pouting, relentless. it rains but 7 days annually, there are gorgeous birds and beautiful flowers abound, the food rules, the girls are decadent and sensual with their flamedancing... who else --
my whole family is here and we have an amazing suite which is a mile from downtown cabo. this is the place where you walk around and turn down offers of cocaine, mota, ladies, and other substances to waste your money on, only to fully agree with your intoxicated mind when he groans "maan... it was worth it!"
mi hermano and i went for a walk the first night in town, and twently minutes later we were recieving a handful of marijuana for 200 pesos (20 american bones). it is a very still stoned - and i hear pancho villa breathing against my breast everynight i stay awake talking to the mooon...
all sounds pretty decent, right?
now the lame aspects of now --
prior to leaving chicago i had a little happening at my apartment. initially i wanted to have a reading and enjoy the company of good people over wine and weed and ginsberg, but that didnt looke promising at 10:00 - as no one had showed up except for pete and chandler. we figure everyone is bummed about the weather and wont come out. at 10:30 or so a few folks showed up which is a nice surprise. then a few more, then a few more that were invited by the first gang of few more... all is well - people are having a good time, laughing, drinking, recalling humorous events of the past, all is fine... then the devilmancloud comes into town.
suddenly i am in this fucked up mood. i feel like locking my door and sitting in the dark with a joint and the tao te ching and that picture of the asian girl laying nude on the kitty pool/raft, and listening to the smiths. i feel like i am leaving to go back to albuquerque (as i was going to catch the el to ohare at 4am), and i just want to transcend the social happenings for a while; clear the brainmachine; pack my clothes; maybe sleep a halr hour...
so i do these things.
i am first awoken by kati who is the sweetest girl in chicago. she tells me how appreciative she is for inviting her over and such. we talk about the next few weeks of our lives and then she is on her marry way to leave with brendan and i am on my merry way towards slumber.
i sleep a little. li po reads me a poem and.. OH SHIT! CHANDLER: IF YOU READ THIS, GO TO THE APARTMENT AND FEED THAT LITTLE GUY. BUY SOME CRICKETS AND I WILL HIT YOU BACK WITH SOME CABO RED...
so then i wake up to the sound of my landlord saying "Do you live Here?!? No?!? GET OUT!"
she kicks everyone out. i am kicked out of the apartment, and we can no longer have shows or any happenings at the graveface headquarters. reason?
justin taylor broke a window after yelling at the hipsters that live below us. this selfish act brought the cops sirening and now i can no longer enjoy the greatest apartment in he city of chicago. plusi need to some how get the money from justin to pay for it - phones aint be working down here in mexico.
all is well though, no worries...
i feel as though there is some other really scary aspect to my life right now --
perhaps another bowl will refresh the noggin...