Thursday, June 20, 2013

"The Golden Gate Weight 'round my Lunatic Bellbottoms" -an Outing with Yours Truly. 
June 2o13

I got the call at around 9:30. It was Auntie, yeah...the one who ran Master Blaster out. My personal assistant and all-around go getter in the Hooker community. Her voice quivers when she's excited. Probably the most heart felt interactions and feelings expressed between recent "friends" and colleagues goin' right the fuck Now. She wanted to go see an old friend's band play and knew that I might need some cheerful perspective.
I lit the tip of my Purple Hashplant/Purple Rain indica RAW Cone and stepped on the accelerator up MLK. 


Intercept Auntie on the porch and meet her neighbor. Lovely gal with striking features and a genuine facial expression when she's listening to a Manic-type ramble on about SoulMate-ish and Mossberg 500's. 

SIDENOTE: My fiance and I were almost murdered curbside because of a lack of understanding/communication with the clientele of the upstairs recording Studio. The prestige playa's of ESO, "Magic City". Long Story short (yeah, right). Her neighbor and I struck an immediate affinity and kinship that ran through the entire EPIC evening.
  • Pulled up to the Hemlock SF to an asshole naked cracked out/Syrup'd bitch apparently tryin to defecate on my bumper. I'm on the phone with my fiance who is at the Boarding Gate to her flight to Oaxaca, Mexico. Last thing my lay hears is Auntie hoppin out the wagon goin' "HEY!!! I gotta trunk full o gold machete"!!!
  • Met a really cool musician named Mike or Matt or somethin' We sound geeked out on the experimental era for Japanese guitar companies during the mid to late 1970's. Talkin' about Ibanez neck-thru's and weird Peavy's. My weenus jumped when he mentioned the Roland JC-120.
  • Ever seen a homeless harassment twack get his wig split by a fancy-ass $499.99 custom Arai motorcycle helmet???!!! We did. That shit was ROUGH. Had it coming, though. Fucked the rocketeers' helmet up something fierce. Felt bad, cause I always wanted one of those racing buckets.
  • Auntie's eye got sliced by her friend sayin' "Goodbye" and not being trained on the Battle Wagon. The sliding door clipped her in a moment of motor skill awkwardness that hopefully did't blow her chances at the test "Jury" for powerhouse barista's. 
  • Yammered the entire ride home. GLOWING. GOING. GOLD.

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