Yeah yeah…it’s Monday. I got band practice, my boy is at daycare and I didn’t get home until 3 am because I worked last night. Rainy Mondays when you’re alone in the house are some of the lonliest days in the world…that’s a song: Rainy days and Mondays always get me down, right? Well, this is both and I’m in my underwear in the dark feeling like I really need to shake the dust of my dick and make it happen. I’m drinking coffee. I think it’s eventually gonna turn my teeth yellow, which is a bummer. Here’s what they never tell you about the morning: it’s all just various different methods of getting you to take a dump. I always thought that phrases like “Gets you going” or “start your day off right” had to do with energy, but as I’ve aged I’ve come to realize what’s really going on. Amazing. Well, by these standards, I’ve had a really unsuccessful morning so far. Actually, I don’t think there’s a single measuring stick with which you could refer to this morning as successful. At best it’s uneventful.
Yikes, I just read over this paragraph and have an amazing sense that I’m wasting everyone’s time. I don’t know what that is, as this blog is designed explicitly to be a time waster, but I’m feeling a little guilty.
My friend has been hiking the pacific trail. He left 2 months ago a bloated drunken mess and returned home yesterday a slender drunken mess. He’s one of my absolute faves, so it’s really great to have him home. Here’s the funny part: Before he hiked the trail, he went out to this place called Holden, which is, as far as I can glean, a little slice of the fifties nestled into the mountains in Washington run entirely by Lutheran hippies. He goes up there and paints houses and works at the ice cream shop and shit. I know. Anyway, his friend Carl (Karl?) was supposed to go meet him up there and from there they were gonna set off on the trail. Karl (Carl?) was gonna bring the maps and the tent. Okay, right, so dude never showed up, and my buddy is stuck with no tent and no maps and he’s got this plan to hike the pacific trail but no one to do it with. So, what’s a boy to do? Okay, this next part is funnier if I mention that my friend is 29 with a huge beard, glowing white skin and perpetually bloodshot eyes. Okay, back on course…what’s a boy to do? Well, of course you find an 18 year old girl who’s also at the Lutheran commune and you take her. When I talked to him on the phone during his hike, he told me that him and the girl had just been waiting for a car to bring them into town all day and they just arrived and were having a beer. So naturally I asked “wait, dude. Are you telling me that you took an 18 year old girl out of a Lutheran work camp program and you’re dragging her all over the backroads of the northwest, fucking her and hitch hiking to liquor stores on an epic scale?” “Well, only when I’ve got enough energy to fuck. We’re hiking like 25 miles a day.”
Jesus Christ. If this girl’s dad ever catches my friend, I’m guessing it’s gonna be pretty brutal. Hey, honestly, I don’t even know if they were banging, but it kind of seems impossible to me that they weren’t. Right? Pacific trail? That thing’s nothing but a linear fuck fest, from what I hear.
That reminds me of the signs around campgrounds that say “hey, dummies! Don’t fuck out here! It attracts bears!” Firstly, ew. Secondly, get out of here! Of course people are gonna fuck. It’s camping! That’s what camping is for. It’s a new place to fuck. To borrow a turn of phrase from the SAT’s, fucking is to camping as crapping is to mornings, it’s the whole fucking thing, man…Jesus. What am I talking about? Let’s rap tomorrow.