The sun does strange things to some people.
As the big burning ball in the sky decided to come out from its clouded cover last weekend… we thought it would be a good day to take a trip up to the big city….see civilization… the wonder that is Seattle…. What the great benefactors and wise supervisors of King County chunk so much dough into…
But first.. we needed supplies… a quick trip to the Lakewood drive-in swap meet for hiking boots and Japanese ”Japaness” porn…
Feeling that pure Japanese porn might be a little much…a little too aggressive…. I took a moment to reflect on Zen-like properties of the art of erotic massage… for those special quite times…
Spinning from this erotic, ultimate, massage, sex, porn input overload… I felt it might be time to turn it down a notch…. Probably would have let the demons run a bit…but there was a full day of public interaction… and I can’t walk it off for that long….
As I turned the corner… I heard the word…. There he was…. Jesus Christ!
Flanked by a Pokémon version Mother Mary…and some Tibetan mother Mary….
Speaking to me.. Talking to me…. Repent.. Repent….
“Put down the Zen-like properties of the art of erotic massage… for those special quite times…” resonated in my skull.
“put down the erotic, ultimate, massage, sex, porn…” whispered behind my ear…
I caved… through the tears and snot and all that goes along with the embarrassment of being caught by your deity with porn in your hands… I caved.. no porn today… just the mental snapshots I took before putting it back on the pile.
Thoroughly freaked out.. not sure if the burner from last night was kicking in for it’s second round. Or if my blood sugar dropped off to dangerous levels… we boarded a bus for the great city of Seattle. No need to operate heavy machinery… this was a task left to attentive…rested…sober hands…
The heat does strange things to people… this city does strange things to people… but at least he wasn’t riding a “fixy”….
It’s amazing how many people come out to cook in this oven… to bask in the glow of that infernal burning sphere... Throwing caution to the wind... sporting a mere SPF 15... they march...most come after blowing off work...some come before the daily grind begins..
However…some sit and wait... patiently for the work to come to them.
This fine gent was willing to work…even in the heat…
We were not sure what this “marijuana” is… but it appears to be a comparable form of currency… we secured his services… employing him to obtain cool water. We waited for as long as we could… but the heat and the lack of wind forced our march onward… Apparently, the marijuana needed to be given prior to the search for supplies. We have a lot to learn in this new city.
As we continued to walk… a forced death march of sorts…searching for reasonably priced food and clean water… my mind began to wander as Guatemalan mariachis played the subliminal Ecuadorian folk music…
..forcing me to partially disrobe and communicate with the aboriginal side of my brain… deep magic going on over there…deep magic…
Soooo hot… even the zatarain's guy was down… Sooooo hot..
Pipes were bursting everywhere.
and victims of the heat lined the roads
Bombarded from the rising temperatures and bordering on heat stroke… we retreated back to the tunnels and the cool..
Thank God for the safety officers were placed throughout the sub-terrain transit system.
as they kept the city dwellers seperated in contained areas...safe from the crushing weight of scared, sweating out of towners...
And thank God for the cool… but was it possibly too cool…? The chills set in.. the joints began to stiffen...Paralysis started to set in… I begin to think I might have been hit by a Guatemalan poisonous dart of some kind as sleep began to creep in… I would surely have fallen into the coma planned for me… if it weren’t for the sweet sweet cold.
The sweat beading from my glistening body… seemingly the result of a competition of overweight Out of Towner vs. physical activity left beadlets that super cooled in this chilled ant farm… and that chill kept me alive… No coma… no sleep. No pick pockets or kidnappings to some ocean bound ship in need of decks washed. No sir… not this time.
Satisfied in our adventure…if only content in our survival…we boarded the light rail back to the simple life of hunting and gathering…babbling brooks of clean running water and blowing wind. Still curious as to the marijuana…and the lingering effects of the Guatemalan poisoned dart and flute music.
But first.. we needed supplies… a quick trip to the Lakewood drive-in swap meet for hiking boots and Japanese ”Japaness” porn…
Feeling that pure Japanese porn might be a little much…a little too aggressive…. I took a moment to reflect on Zen-like properties of the art of erotic massage… for those special quite times…
Spinning from this erotic, ultimate, massage, sex, porn input overload… I felt it might be time to turn it down a notch…. Probably would have let the demons run a bit…but there was a full day of public interaction… and I can’t walk it off for that long….
As I turned the corner… I heard the word…. There he was…. Jesus Christ!
Flanked by a Pokémon version Mother Mary…and some Tibetan mother Mary….
Speaking to me.. Talking to me…. Repent.. Repent….
“Put down the Zen-like properties of the art of erotic massage… for those special quite times…” resonated in my skull.
“put down the erotic, ultimate, massage, sex, porn…” whispered behind my ear…
I caved… through the tears and snot and all that goes along with the embarrassment of being caught by your deity with porn in your hands… I caved.. no porn today… just the mental snapshots I took before putting it back on the pile.
Thoroughly freaked out.. not sure if the burner from last night was kicking in for it’s second round. Or if my blood sugar dropped off to dangerous levels… we boarded a bus for the great city of Seattle. No need to operate heavy machinery… this was a task left to attentive…rested…sober hands…
The heat does strange things to people… this city does strange things to people… but at least he wasn’t riding a “fixy”….
It’s amazing how many people come out to cook in this oven… to bask in the glow of that infernal burning sphere... Throwing caution to the wind... sporting a mere SPF 15... they march...most come after blowing off work...some come before the daily grind begins..
However…some sit and wait... patiently for the work to come to them.
This fine gent was willing to work…even in the heat…
We were not sure what this “marijuana” is… but it appears to be a comparable form of currency… we secured his services… employing him to obtain cool water. We waited for as long as we could… but the heat and the lack of wind forced our march onward… Apparently, the marijuana needed to be given prior to the search for supplies. We have a lot to learn in this new city.
As we continued to walk… a forced death march of sorts…searching for reasonably priced food and clean water… my mind began to wander as Guatemalan mariachis played the subliminal Ecuadorian folk music…
..forcing me to partially disrobe and communicate with the aboriginal side of my brain… deep magic going on over there…deep magic…
Soooo hot… even the zatarain's guy was down… Sooooo hot..
Pipes were bursting everywhere.
and victims of the heat lined the roads
Bombarded from the rising temperatures and bordering on heat stroke… we retreated back to the tunnels and the cool..
Thank God for the safety officers were placed throughout the sub-terrain transit system.
as they kept the city dwellers seperated in contained areas...safe from the crushing weight of scared, sweating out of towners...
And thank God for the cool… but was it possibly too cool…? The chills set in.. the joints began to stiffen...Paralysis started to set in… I begin to think I might have been hit by a Guatemalan poisonous dart of some kind as sleep began to creep in… I would surely have fallen into the coma planned for me… if it weren’t for the sweet sweet cold.
The sweat beading from my glistening body… seemingly the result of a competition of overweight Out of Towner vs. physical activity left beadlets that super cooled in this chilled ant farm… and that chill kept me alive… No coma… no sleep. No pick pockets or kidnappings to some ocean bound ship in need of decks washed. No sir… not this time.
Satisfied in our adventure…if only content in our survival…we boarded the light rail back to the simple life of hunting and gathering…babbling brooks of clean running water and blowing wind. Still curious as to the marijuana…and the lingering effects of the Guatemalan poisoned dart and flute music.
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