what was that? is that all there is? who is this? this is it.

Running on three cylinders, and it’s a V-8. A hazy shade of Thursday. Cheap gas and lots of city miles and I’ve got 5 fuel injectors clogged. I feel the pedal go down but I don’t feel the acceleration. Maybe I need to get some sleep and a real meal.

Or maybe not

I enter your sphere
sitting at the bar    day’s end
you pour   me smiles       beer

what's that Lama?

Oh yeah don’t worry, we’ve got the Seattle Police out in force and the State Patrol is helping out too. They’re cleaning up the streets for you, at least along the route of the motorcade. We’re busting random bike messengers for nothing, we’re hauling away homeless people, we’re picking up trash, we’re kicking ass for you out there Lama.

Do you think I could ride shotgun in the pope-mobile on the way back to the hotel?

5 Comments

He said, Gunga galunga. Gunga lagunga.

then he said, hey G-dub you suck

on the way to LQA this afternoon on 4th Avenue traffic free all green lights wide open road then I realized I was on the Lama's motorcade route then I realized the motorcycle cops at every intersection were yelling at me to "stay on the sidewalk". Goonga Goonga Galoonga Horseshit.

But on your deathbed, you'll receive total consciousness. So you've got that going for you.

I bet the D-Lam would love to have homeless people and random peeps harassed on his account. I saw him once in Arizona, he's magic.

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