PDX. PDQ. 23 hours of Portland. 46 beers. Four block bike ride. The Standard. One piece of Clair’s birthday cake. Did a little dance. Walked bike back. Slept on floor. Stood up. The Screen Door. Ordered Cajun scramble with grits and whole wheat toast. Couldn’t stomach it. Came home with headache. What time is it?
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copy that Case. I should have skipped the Cajun scramble and kept the orange beers coming. Hey thanks to you and Clair too. For Real. Really. and nothing says PDX like Elliott Smith..."Its always been wait and see. A happy day and then you pay.And feel like shit the morning after"