This is actually from a couple of weeks ago now, but it took me awhile to find time to type it all up. I hope you like it. There is no porn it it - equally bizarre - I took NO pictures that whole day.
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What a long , strange day I had. Wednesdays are never a normal work day for me anyway, but this one turned out to be one of the most atypical ever. It started normal, I went to work in the morning as always, finished up a project that I
had started for a customer the day before. A 5 ct. stone set in a very heavy ring. It was beautiful, I got complimented on it by the store manager even. That almost never happens. I ordered a couple new phones to be delivered to my house
a nice camera phone for the girl and a Sidekick II with web browser for myself. I have been without a cell phone for about a year now, since the girl left my old one out in the rain one night, so I am very excited to have a phone again.
Anyway, after I got the ring done for the customer, I was free to leave work for the rest of the day.
I go into Portland to get supplies and parts for my business every Wednesday afternoon, following that, I am free to wander and explore my favorite small city in the world.
Upon arriving downtown, I decided that it would be a good idea, being that it was a beautiful day and no responsibilities weighing down upon me, that I should do some acid. I grabbed a couple of my favorite weekly papers and headed down to the water front park, sat in the grass with my shirt off,the sun warming my back,read my papers, listening to my mp3 player on shuffle and watching the strange and beautiful people walk, run, ride, and glide past.
I noticed that I was getting hungry, so I headed back to pioneer square for a Honk'n Huge Burrito with no sour cream, extra onions and tomatoes. These burritos are, besides being very large (hence the name), divinely delicious. So there I am, a 35 year old man in the 21st century, dressed in the casual uniform of a northwest male; cargo pants, short sleeve shirt, tennis shoes and a hat. Headphones connected to mp3 player, listening to unknown music (techno and
industrial, mostly), eating my vegetarian lunch in the outdoor public square with the usual assortment of strange, lovely, bizarre and ugly people typical of such places at any time in history, and I am frying out of my mind! LOVELY!
EXQUISITE!
My food devoured, I decides to wander some more and see what I can see. It occurs to me that I haven't been walking a lot of stairs lately, so I got to a 10 story public garage and commence to climb up and down the 10 flights of stairs. A number of times. I'm no t sure how many, but the volume of DeSade in my backpack is digging into my back in a most distracting way, causing discomfort and distracting me from my goal, whatever that had been. So i walk toward Powels books. I decide not to go in when I get there, partly because I am wearing a backpack and they make you leave them at the desk, and I might forget it, but
mostly I have become aware of my thirst. The place I chose is dark inside. I ask for a dark beer. Two dollars for a large canning jar full of dark, exquisite refreshment. I find myself wondering how a song that I do not own got into my
mp3 player. When I look to see what it is called I realize that my batteries have died and I have been listening to the music coming from the speakers above me. It also occurs to me that I am: on acid, in a gay bar called "The Eagle", drinking a beer called "Hairy Eyeball", watching a man fellate himself on the t.v. above the bar. This seems a little surreal to me. A cute guy in his twenties asks if I would like to play pool with him. I would like nothing more, as I love to play pool and I rarely get the chance , but I feel that I would be incapable of concentrating, so I decline his offer. He leaves looking a little disappointed - I hope I haven't hurt his feelings. It must have taken some courage on his part to approach me, and now I feel bad for him. My beer is gone, so I decide to wander some more. Quick flash- back as I am leaving , of the first night I walked into this bar some 14 years ago. A man in leather chaps and boots, otherwise naked, on his knees, sucking a large hairy bears cock in the corner while 4-6 other guys stand around them, jacking off. I have completely forgotten the young man by the time I hit the street.
I am in a theater, watching Lost in Translation. I have no idea why I would choose this film, but I have an uncomfortable affinity with the main character and I wonder... I get up to go to the bathroom about a half hour from the end and I get lost and never find my way back to the theater. It's o.k., I've seen the movie before.
I'm walking and the sun is still out and its warm and fabulous to be alive and then I am at the library computer looking at suicide girls and I think - I should go to Embers tonight and listen to good music(it's Gothic/Industrial night) and drink and dance(I don't dance in real life, just in my head- if you ever see me at a club or concert- just standing there - I am dancing in my mind) and be alive and see Molonel(not the name I call him in my head, I use his real name in my thoughts) and that would be FINE and LOVELY with capitol letters and all( I actually see the words suspended in front of me in large, block letters).
I am in a side walk cafe. Drinking coffee. I hope I remembered to order decaf. I am becoming sober as a deluge of rain washes the street clean, and I wonder what the time might be. It takes me a couple of confused and panicky moments to find my watch, which is for some unknown reason,in my pocket. It is 8:40 and I am due home in 30 minutes. I debate, should I stay or should I go( Yes, I sing it in my head, doesn't everyone?). If I stay there will be trouble, if I go there will be double. If I stay I must call and check in with the girl so she won't worry. then I must wait 2-3 hours before being assured some one will be at Embers. And then I will be very tired for work tomorrow. I check my pockets. No change. I must have given it all away. That clinches it then, I can't call home anyway.
So I run through the rain towards where I parked my car some 8 hours previous. As I jump over the swollen gutters draining away the last of the downpour from the heavens, I think of the rain jacket that I left in the trunk of the beetle, how I thought it couldn't possibly rain on such a LOVELY day as this. How I had moved the tool box over to make room for my jacket and other things, and I remembered that I had a couple of hits of acid in the tool box from the night of my best friends birthday party and I thought - " What a LOVELY day - I should take some acid to celebrate how VERY LOVELY it is."
*************************************************
I hope you liked it, any critiques are always appreciated.
If you have a few free moments, try this its funny. Lost in translation- not the movie
**************************************************
What a long , strange day I had. Wednesdays are never a normal work day for me anyway, but this one turned out to be one of the most atypical ever. It started normal, I went to work in the morning as always, finished up a project that I
had started for a customer the day before. A 5 ct. stone set in a very heavy ring. It was beautiful, I got complimented on it by the store manager even. That almost never happens. I ordered a couple new phones to be delivered to my house
a nice camera phone for the girl and a Sidekick II with web browser for myself. I have been without a cell phone for about a year now, since the girl left my old one out in the rain one night, so I am very excited to have a phone again.
Anyway, after I got the ring done for the customer, I was free to leave work for the rest of the day.
I go into Portland to get supplies and parts for my business every Wednesday afternoon, following that, I am free to wander and explore my favorite small city in the world.
Upon arriving downtown, I decided that it would be a good idea, being that it was a beautiful day and no responsibilities weighing down upon me, that I should do some acid. I grabbed a couple of my favorite weekly papers and headed down to the water front park, sat in the grass with my shirt off,the sun warming my back,read my papers, listening to my mp3 player on shuffle and watching the strange and beautiful people walk, run, ride, and glide past.
I noticed that I was getting hungry, so I headed back to pioneer square for a Honk'n Huge Burrito with no sour cream, extra onions and tomatoes. These burritos are, besides being very large (hence the name), divinely delicious. So there I am, a 35 year old man in the 21st century, dressed in the casual uniform of a northwest male; cargo pants, short sleeve shirt, tennis shoes and a hat. Headphones connected to mp3 player, listening to unknown music (techno and
industrial, mostly), eating my vegetarian lunch in the outdoor public square with the usual assortment of strange, lovely, bizarre and ugly people typical of such places at any time in history, and I am frying out of my mind! LOVELY!
EXQUISITE!
My food devoured, I decides to wander some more and see what I can see. It occurs to me that I haven't been walking a lot of stairs lately, so I got to a 10 story public garage and commence to climb up and down the 10 flights of stairs. A number of times. I'm no t sure how many, but the volume of DeSade in my backpack is digging into my back in a most distracting way, causing discomfort and distracting me from my goal, whatever that had been. So i walk toward Powels books. I decide not to go in when I get there, partly because I am wearing a backpack and they make you leave them at the desk, and I might forget it, but
mostly I have become aware of my thirst. The place I chose is dark inside. I ask for a dark beer. Two dollars for a large canning jar full of dark, exquisite refreshment. I find myself wondering how a song that I do not own got into my
mp3 player. When I look to see what it is called I realize that my batteries have died and I have been listening to the music coming from the speakers above me. It also occurs to me that I am: on acid, in a gay bar called "The Eagle", drinking a beer called "Hairy Eyeball", watching a man fellate himself on the t.v. above the bar. This seems a little surreal to me. A cute guy in his twenties asks if I would like to play pool with him. I would like nothing more, as I love to play pool and I rarely get the chance , but I feel that I would be incapable of concentrating, so I decline his offer. He leaves looking a little disappointed - I hope I haven't hurt his feelings. It must have taken some courage on his part to approach me, and now I feel bad for him. My beer is gone, so I decide to wander some more. Quick flash- back as I am leaving , of the first night I walked into this bar some 14 years ago. A man in leather chaps and boots, otherwise naked, on his knees, sucking a large hairy bears cock in the corner while 4-6 other guys stand around them, jacking off. I have completely forgotten the young man by the time I hit the street.
I am in a theater, watching Lost in Translation. I have no idea why I would choose this film, but I have an uncomfortable affinity with the main character and I wonder... I get up to go to the bathroom about a half hour from the end and I get lost and never find my way back to the theater. It's o.k., I've seen the movie before.
I'm walking and the sun is still out and its warm and fabulous to be alive and then I am at the library computer looking at suicide girls and I think - I should go to Embers tonight and listen to good music(it's Gothic/Industrial night) and drink and dance(I don't dance in real life, just in my head- if you ever see me at a club or concert- just standing there - I am dancing in my mind) and be alive and see Molonel(not the name I call him in my head, I use his real name in my thoughts) and that would be FINE and LOVELY with capitol letters and all( I actually see the words suspended in front of me in large, block letters).
I am in a side walk cafe. Drinking coffee. I hope I remembered to order decaf. I am becoming sober as a deluge of rain washes the street clean, and I wonder what the time might be. It takes me a couple of confused and panicky moments to find my watch, which is for some unknown reason,in my pocket. It is 8:40 and I am due home in 30 minutes. I debate, should I stay or should I go( Yes, I sing it in my head, doesn't everyone?). If I stay there will be trouble, if I go there will be double. If I stay I must call and check in with the girl so she won't worry. then I must wait 2-3 hours before being assured some one will be at Embers. And then I will be very tired for work tomorrow. I check my pockets. No change. I must have given it all away. That clinches it then, I can't call home anyway.
So I run through the rain towards where I parked my car some 8 hours previous. As I jump over the swollen gutters draining away the last of the downpour from the heavens, I think of the rain jacket that I left in the trunk of the beetle, how I thought it couldn't possibly rain on such a LOVELY day as this. How I had moved the tool box over to make room for my jacket and other things, and I remembered that I had a couple of hits of acid in the tool box from the night of my best friends birthday party and I thought - " What a LOVELY day - I should take some acid to celebrate how VERY LOVELY it is."
*************************************************
I hope you liked it, any critiques are always appreciated.
If you have a few free moments, try this its funny. Lost in translation- not the movie
VIEW 11 of 11 COMMENTS
As for the assface ex asshole.....i wish i never had to see him again.