another weirdo dream... we're on the road, but this time with Mothership. the dudes have booked a show somewhere, and it's hillbilly heaven. with tall, rolling, actual hills. really steep ones. all the houses are built into these hills using what appears to be ancient roman columns. and depending on the angle of the hill, some of the homes are supported by 50 feet or more of these segmented, giant columns.
"they don't look safe at all" i said.
"they prolly aren't." someone replied.
between the hills with crazy column houses is a low area, with a basketball court and a gravel parking lot. i'm down there on a picnic table hanging out with the Mothership dudes. i am listening to my old school jam box with the cassette player and the Q95 sticker on it. it still has the ink from the marker when i 'customized' it. i don't know what we're listening to but it's time to order some food. i'm told it's ok to leave the jam box playing on the picnic table and am led to the underside of one of these ridiculous houses. someone has set up some card tables and they hired some guy to go pick up food from the Olive Garden.
"i'll have what i always have, fettucine alfredo. big salad." i am really sure about my order, and i appreciate the Michelob light, but i need to use the bathroom. upstairs, in the house, i'm told.
i end up in the kitchen of this house on giant columns on the side of a steep hill... and there is a toilet next to the stove. "i'm not going to shit in there." i say to the kid who lives there. "where do you shit, right here? really?" he kind of frowns and points to a giant basket next to the refrigerator. the basket is full of potato sized, dolly madison starcrunch looking dook.
i decide to get my jambox and leave. then i wake up and have to poo.
the end?
a random collection of whatever from beyond the cosmic horizon; the psychic adventures of a rambling, gambling, heavy metal beatnik.
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