it’s own! Tony’s coming out tonight wit’ us! the shit thing is, i’ll prolly have to skip paying car insurance this month, ‘coz i hafta pay for two people b-sides myself *sigh* but wtf? i’m having funfunfun 2nite!
oh, how i’ve missed Dayton nitelife with its hustlers and junkies and whores and penny-ante dealers crawling the streets til dawn… the weirdos, buzzed-out and drunked up, and everyone looking for stories while each telling their own to whoever’ll listen… late nights at allnight diners, pre-hangover, paying for a coffee with whatever pocketchange you haven’t already signed over to the bartender… angry purple neon under brown night canopy… denizens of every flavor running loose underneath, everyone looking for god somewhere because you can’t see through the coffee sludge at the top of the night… one vast playground full of streets and awful, empty, fallingdown warehouses (warehousen? warehise?)… the smell of cars that move when they should really be broken down somewhere, leaking petrol fuel, radiator cap busted, carburetor spew, muffler bearings, headlight gaskets, o-rings setting oil FREE!, beauty of old rusted V8 Plymouth rock and rolling rock, rolling church rocking and knocking and pinging and tappity tap clap tik knock knock? all-night LSD binges under sky littered with -not stars at all but- distant fourthofjuly sparklers, disembodied or else left by gods either too ashamed or suddenly bored to carry them any further across the great inkgreasy black canvas… UFOs, mofo, and they stole my mojo at the HoJo… Kitaro blends with Hendrix blends with Love blends with Iron Butterfly blends with Steppenwolf blends with Ravi Shankar and it all comes out somehow as Depeche Mode, beat that! ultraviolet wig-outs by speed freaks having a Jesus meltdown in the middle of Brown Street… reggae women… spare change… paper… how long’s that trash been on the side of the street? article says 1973 but the rust looks brand new when you wipe the mud away….
