Back from California safe 'n' sound against all odds. ("Take a look at me now...") My A/C broke and I would never have made it up I-5 through the crematorium-like weather of the Central Valley, so I drove almost blind on much of Highway 101 along the coast just south of the state line, headlights bouncing uselessly off the fog, hoping not to hit a deer, an elk, or another similarly crazed, homesick late-night Sunday driver. Broke up the drive with a stop at Humboldt State University to buy a T-shirt and scope out cute hippie chicks. The two working at the bookstore were pretty choice, and under the combined influence of a double iced mocha (a rare indulgence for me) and the sight of so much vodka in the supermarket (a decadence unknown to Oregonians), I considered luring them back to my motel room with Fuzzy Navels and then fucking the bejeezus out of them. Prudence and cowardice, as usual, ruled that plan out.
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