Allen ginsberg, madness, sakE... good times

Well then, I've been on a materialism binge lately, buying movies and blue alcohol, especially blue alcohol. I have an intransient love for blue liquids. And Alize is one of the bluest. I'm stocking up fro Blake's return. Or at least that's what I tell myself. This far distant, it's hard to say if he'll make it back. God only knows what kind of mad initiative could sweep him up in the grim land of cowhides and Republicans.

So when I don't drink, I work. I'm a responsible alcoholic. I offered some girl thirty dollars finder fee to get me some stuff. So far, no action. The money is put to good use. Even without drugs I'm already going crazy, or at least hearing voices from beyond.

I was listening to Howl at work. You can burn it on to cd now if you feel like downloading ten or twenty megs of an old man jabbering in a benzedrine rant. I did, oh yes I did. And around the mid point right before he gets to the part about Moloch... ZANG. I started hearing Ginsberg say things I knew weren't in the published version of that poem. I started hearing him dictate to me sadly as if he knew I couldnt remember the Ultimate Truth he was revealing.

I forgot it all soon after. Couldn't tell anyone or write it down, they'd put me in a coffin shaped eliptical containment unit and send me into cryo stasis, yoiu're not our problem to deal with save it for the next generation.

I did realize one universal question though after that: I had to decide what kidn of scummy friend would let there buddy come home without sake. I couldnt believe I'd forgotten it last time. I went by the abc store but none in sight. Then I remembered a Vietnamese restaurant Lucas had taken me to. I recalled the inviteing draft sake they displayed. I'd need to use subterfuge to get it.

So I asked Charlie to take me to Harrisonburg. Laurie mumbled about where we were going and I told her we were off to pick up chicks. She'd never know the difference or believe the holy errand I was upon. We got into Harrisonburg and visited many a store, but the only place that had anything neat was Hot Topic, from whence I procured my bumper stickers that will hold a broken microwave together at work. I'll have to use load-0bearing stickers of snakes on a plane to keep the radiation shield up or we'll all be fried.

Anyhow we finally found the Vietnamese place right next to the Kyoto steakhouse, a nice little join both of them are, but I stuck with teh sure bet. There was some confusion over what I wanted but finally I settled for a fresh or Noma saki. They brought out tiny bottles that looked like those little children's drinks. They tried to give me a bill and have me sit outside with two saki cups. I suppose they expect I had a girl with me, no man could drink what was honestly 4 good gulps of liquer alone, could he?

No. I had better plans. I paid the bill and left a tip, then snatched up the tray before they could --horror of all horrors-- open my saki. So I thanked them profusely in my bathrobe and then slipped out onto the patio. But there were people out there. This was going to take some doing. Yes, hello, I'm just here to drink, not to contravene any off premises beverage laws in place by the fascist party of virginia. I sipped at empty cups like some vampire caricature and then set them down with a satisfied sigh. Were these other animals around me buying it? Probably not.

It was at this point that I stuck the two baby bottles into the ample pockets of my grey and white bathrobe and fled to the waiting car. I'm sure the waitrress, an attractive young thing, was rather freaked when she found two dry cups and no empty bottles and no customer. I'd paid my bill though and left a tip, so they couldn't get me on that. I was still a bit uptight until we were back in good old luray, where no one would even know what saki was, much less think to search for a saki thief.

Victory was mine. Now if I could jsut buy that big white lab coat I wanted...