When you pay a man $17.61 to drive you less than a mile from a bar to home and decide to make a pit-stop at Jack In the Box, how can you think of a recession? This man driving the Happy Taxi is running from his gold diggin' Las Vegas wife and all he needs is a little tax shelter; something so she can't garnish his wages. "What's the craziest fare you've had in your three days of being a cab driver?" I asked him. "Probly the one from last night. This dude had me drive him to a crack house and leave the meter running. Fucked up thing is he didn't let me hit that pipe!" On top of the tip he received from the boy who paid for the ride, I gave him a Sacagawea $1 coin. "Thank you and good luck, man."
"My current top threes are trans fats, relocations and drastic weight loss." Frank's proclamations are a prelude to substance abuse. Anachronistic obsessions (...or anarchronistic?) are a hallmark of humanity.
I commented in the car ride that life would be perfect if I had always at my disposal vehicles for both destruction and recuperation. As it stands, I think we mostly have mediocre means for each: roadside stands along the paved path of stasis.
"All of your San Franciscos must one day burn and rise again." - Kerouac
"Who am I to say? Who am I to say what I will or will not relive?" - Hicks
Happy Valentine's Day, yall.
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