There's a bunch of houses that burned down because firefighters couldn't get to them.
Why? Because they fleed their homes and left their electric gates locked.
Ok, that's pretty mean. I am a big peice of shit.
Were's the calander?
Where///////when are we?
We're in merced california and the date isssssss...........let's say September 9th/early morning/the year 2007. Yes, let's just make that the scene.
Between last time and now, I feel that it's necessary to mention that there are wheat thins all over the floor. See, Phil didn't like the flavor he wouldn't eat them. At the end of an endlessly drunk eveining, towards the end of Phil's shower, I thought of a funny joke. I would suprise Phil with a fast moving cloud of crackers to the face as soon as he opened the door. As is common when I'm drunk, my joke was funniest mostly just to me.
I felt bad in the morning and did some of the sweeping. Fuck, we were in a new town. After LA, this was the furthest out that I think any of us had ever been(in CA)......Which was nice, pretty much exactly what I was looking for.
We cleaned up ourselves and our room, checked our internets, and packed up. It's kind of funny how people treat you when you're driving around with an old van full of music gear. This lady came up to me outside and wanted the full story about everything Roxy Jones. I gave the short version about the spiders and how beck played mouth harp on the album. Then she told me about how Beck played mouth harp on her son's album too! Wow! The woman who was up all night serving drinks long after she was supposed to be off work walked by. She wasn't lying when she said she had to be back here early.
After searching for the cheapest hotel the night before, we pretty much already had the lay of the land. Merced is a pretty small town. But it has a huge reputation amongs some of our friends. This is the town where I'm supposed to find the coolest Bar in Cailfornia. This is where there's a huge HedgeCore following that I'm supposed to connect with.......Or was that Fresno??? You know, I don't have any pictures of Merced whict is a goddamded shame. Darrin does, I think. I have a postcard that I never filled out. I don't even know who it's to yet. Fuckin anyway, first order of business this smornirng was that Phil's bass was fucked up and needed help. Well really it just needed duct tape....OH MY GOD WHERE"S THE WALMART!!!!!!!?????????!!!!!! With that out of the way we were off to explore. Merced is a little like Aiken, South Carolina in that every fucking thing is closed on Sunday. The downtown area, despite that setback was really small and really charming.
We ate some crap crap that I don't even recall and went to a shopping center. The only thing that I remeber is that I bought a doctor halloween costume, complete with syringe and stethiscope, that fell apart when I tried to put it on. We were supposed to be at this guy, RC's house at five. Downtown I also found a small casino that had daily poker tournaments, and a small shop with nintendo's and sega genesis's in the window and in the box. My plan from then on was to win a poker tournament and buy a nintendo.
We found the mall. Turns out that's where everyone in Merced is on a Sunday. In Aiken it's pretty much the same. The whole town's at wal mart. We call RC and he says that we shouldn't come over before six now. It's like four now so we've got some time to kill. In the mall we kill time at the arcade and we almost bought some guns at the sporting goods place just cause we could.. Then I bought the Ray Charles 3cd set with all the good early shit, and another album that I immeadiately regreted buying. Of course, the later was the one that would operate in the car stereo. We bull shited around until RC said it was cool to come over.
We get to the address (this was map 2) and there's a parking space right out front. The lawn is nice and trim and the front is green and pretty bare. The house next door looked pretty wild and alive, so I thought that the neighboors were probably pretty cool. I walked up to the doorstep, making sure to use the sidewalk instead of trampling through the grass, and knocked decisively (I didn't see a bell button). A thick, flakey-skined, middle-aged, bald man answers the door.
"Whadda Ya Want?," redundantly, looking aroung our shoulders at the large, tan vehicle in front of his house.
"I'm sorry, but does RC live here?," I am reluctant in asking, already knowing the answer, but hoping for new information.
"He lives next door. Don't park in front of my house."
So it turns out that me and RC have something in common. Asshole neighboors. Then there was a show and blah blah blah.....Ok, I'm gonna finish this tomorrow. I'm afaid of the save feature on this so, I'll just post now and write part 3.2 tomorrow. You know it's over when you use the same three syllable word in two consecutive sentences.....
Speaking of being over, did you know that my shit is so serriouse that it has it's own tide pools?
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