heading home in the morning... ish

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So I'm unplugging my machine tonight. It won't kill me to deal with Mom's travesty of a computer in the morning, and I gotta try to get my car packed up such that I can fit Old Uncle Dave in the passenger seat when we go grab a burger somewhere before I just seriously point north and drive.

I will have to be coming back down a few times over the course of the next few months in order to end up with my Hollywood mouth and my brighter future, so, heck, I'm just going to get in the groove. I'm a pretty damn good driver.

Was stuck talking cars and movie stars with some guy who manages one of the local indian casinos at dinner tonight, and I think he thought he was going to be impressing me. I told him about the time I raced a guy driving a Corvette down Highway One from somewhere north of Jenner to the parking lot of the Marshall Tavern in my MG Midget. He'd pissed me off. So I passed his ass and he couldn't get in front of me again no matter how hard he tried, and he TRIED. I didn't drop below 70mph, even on the tightest turns, most of which I merely straightened out, but still, anyone who's ever driven that road knows that was a feat of genius. I stopped in Marshall to get some cigarettes out of the trunk of my car.

The fellow driving the Corvette pulled up, jumped out and proposed marriage to me.

His date was the very sculpture of irate.

Mr Casino Putz was slack-jawed with awe, and I could tell he was wondering if he should even believe me. He was also a little shocked that I could speak knowledgeably on the relative merits of the various cars he brought up, and the various movie stars as well. I think it's goofy people put so much stock in that sort of thing. It's only fun to blather about when nobody's doing it to impress you, which is almost never.

So, anyway, his pride and joy is the MG he has in storage. I told him that was going to be the best place for it if he wanted to stay clear of the repair shops. For me, if I can't have Goldie Honda, and I can't, what I really want the most is a very old Porsche in mint condition, and hundreds of thousands of miles of empty highways... and my clawfoot tub....


Oh, oh, and world peace, benevolent anarchy, free energy, free medicine, free food, free clothing, free housing, a whole planet full of free lance human beings being the best they possibly can be to and for each other forever.

Don't forget that part.

But the Porsche and the tub and the physical fitness would put me in better shape to accomplish all the "impossible" stuff on my list, no? Yes. Yes, they darn would.