74 was a good year...More True Confessions  

tmorethorhor1111 91M
2 posts
9/8/2005 11:16 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

74 was a good year...More True Confessions


After my release,I was off to Santa Barbara and the good life.Something about a stint in the Federal system that is calming to ones demeanor.Set up house in one of 12 cottages at the old Miramar Hotel,busing tables at the in-house french restaurant.Loving it,paradise really,so I buzz John in Monterey,suggesting he come down for a weekend.3weeks later he pulls up in my driveway in an Edsel-looking monstrosity with all his belongings strapped on the roof like something out of Beverley Hillbillies,with Mark in the front seat with him.What a crew...PARTY!!!!!Don't know how I pulled off work the next few days,young,dumb,and bullet proof.Needless to say,$$$$was drunken and smoked up in no time...doom,gloom,and desperation settle over us in a pall of manic co-conspiracy,not to worry they assure me and off to work in moody discontent.Shift over at 2,music awfully loud,chatter like a chainsaw,my curiosity is aroused.Walk in my pad,fairly large studio is all,can barely get the door open,beer everywhere,I mean everywhere!Cases and cases and more cases.Every conceivable brand and then some.It's stacked 8 high and three thick along the walls,an island of hard stuff in the center of the room,beer under the bed,beer buldging out of the closet,beer in the sink,fridge,pantry,patio,even the tub is full!Now,for a young punk and drunk,what more could one want?Women,no problem,I mean,way we saw it,we were the party.We proceed to munch cross-tops,chainsmoking herbie,and guzzling,all the while getting the lowdown on their adventures.Seems in their desperate boredom they were out cruising when they just happened upon a major distributor warehouse with a dangling padlock,six trips later they decided my humble abode would stow no more.Just so happens I lived in duplexes with the wall ajoining the front entrance, juet happened itwas the shrine wall of my neighbors.Rented it specifically for gatherings of a meditave and chanting sort.Little did I know at that time,nor would we have cared.We're busy with the business of getting blotto when Mark becomes aware of a slow buzzing drone coming from inside the wall.Further investigation leads us to the conclusion that giant carnivorous insects are burrowing through the wall to satiate their hunger for flesh.Brilliant,no weapons to speak of so we arm ourselves with the broom,mop,and rake.With bandanas secured around our noses and cooking pots for helmets,we attack the wall with the handle end of our makeshift lances.Boink,boink,boink,...stabbady,stab,stab,poke,poke,we pummel the wall with the abandon only a serious case of insect fear will instill.Can just immagine,deep in meditation,chant is now a serene and spititual plane of being at one with the One,when suddenly,your altar with all it's incense,Bhuddas,bells,pictures,and various other idols of worship,start levitating in a rapid velosity aimed directly at one.Wasn't long and there was a rather loud knock at the door,standing there with framing hammer in hand,bulbous veins throbbing on his crimson forehead,it's the landlord.So,20 minutes later trying to avoid a police escort,it's"home james" with no posessions,all three of us squeezed up front,with every conceivable cranny compromised by the horde of beer cases and bottles.Whew!Just another weekend in the life.Heard a news flash over the radio as we were escaping,"thirsty burglars saught by police".Oh well,it was a good summer............

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