Off to the Tam, a sorta
dive bar poplulated by
slumming students.

Not a lot of fun, but me
and Pussy played porcelain
hugger roulette and ordered
draft beer.

Next we hit the
Cunt Flap, when last
Pussy had me here,
we were sitting next
to a couple junkies
who'd leave their drinks
on the bar, cross the
street, go upstairs,
and come back in about
20 minutes, well, different.

There was a live r+b cover
band w/Slack Jaw's dad
on bass.

Stylin'!

Pussy got pissy (British version).
Loogie got pissy (American version).

Xit escalated to the
point it just weren't
no fun no more. I
offered Loogie the
opportunity to hit me
in the head w/a garbage
can just to end it.

We went back to Pussyville.

Where it got real warm.

Then real wet.

Then real cold.

I kept apologizing.

After a fffffreezing
night on the couch,
me and Pusster went
to Watch City to taste
his creation and actually
have to pay for it!

Dunkel me, Dog.

Had some good grub too.
Here's the important part.

Met the lost kissin' cousin
Cindy here (never did find
out her name).

Lives blocks from my mother's
house in Lansing.

Grew up the next town over.

Has relatives in the same nowhere
development as me in northern
Michigan.

Bought her a drink
and gave her a ride.

Um, not that kind.

Pussy and I went to the
Harvard Museum of Natural
History to see these amazing
flowers made of glass a
century ago as teaching tools.

Blown up sex parts!

A quick cha-cha to Charlie's
as we wait for Glassy to get
done workin'.

Not a dive bar, but sure
has the look.

And around the corner (literally)
to Grendel's Den to grab some
butt holders before Glass gets
over.

Grendel's is a cool place.
Good food and a good
beer list. And, it's got
character.

It also serves flaming style
absinthe, so nothing is perfect.

Dinner done,
it's back to Pussyville.
Man, that guy kept
bringin' out great beers
and absinthes.
Thanks.

Here's that Boggy Bong Water again:

There were 3 different
samples and I'll be
goddamed if anyone
could tell one from the
other.

We were having fun:

Glassy is a generous
hostess, and that's
sayin' a mouthful:

Appropriate place for the drip. Didn't have far to travel.


The bongwater I meant . . .

Next day kissin' cousin
Cindy picked me up and
we visited the ICA
on the Boston harbor.

Yep, that's really my cousin.
And her name is really Cindy.

We had a bite to eat and some
beers and caught up on the last
25 years since we'd actually sat
and yapped.

She dropped me back
at Puss' and I hit the
couch and racked out.

I was running out of gas.

I got up about 9 and was
dissuaded from leaving.
Good idea.

The next morning I tried
to beat a quiet retreat but
Pussy got up to bid me adieu
at around 7ish.

And I locked the keys in the
trunk.

And Miss OnStar asked me
some questions, and asked
me a couple more, her voice
soothing and reassuring,
then some pulsations hit
Vlad from a satellite high
above and the door locks
popped up like a 15 year
old's hardon.

I drove to Atown,
where all the lame
asses I wanted to
see neglected to
bother to tell me
when to see them,
or ask when I'd be
there.

I did get to see Asta
and build a fire in
the fire place.

Other than that, it
was too weird bein'
around my ex for any
length of time and the
Mini Mansion is a pig
sty. Bummed me out.

My good friend Anne,
the former Mrs. Dog
Boy, did get ahold of
me as I left Boston and
we met, along w/her
new hubby, Constable
Whitebread, at the
Allentown Brew Works.

The Atown Brew Works
is where I'd be working
if I lived in Atown.
And if I worked.

Anyway,
one of the owners
remembered me from my
days at the Bethlehem Brew
Works and gave us the
VIP tour. Pretty fuckin'
cool place. I may work
there at some point after all.

Layin' there in the
cold of the night, in
the filth of what
used to be my office,
I couldn't take it
anymore and got
up at 6 to head for
Michigan.

Traverse City, to be
precise, 13 hours away.

Hit near whiteout conditions
and black ice in western Pa.

A jackknifed semi facing the
wrong way gave me pause
to slow down. I actually thought
the highway may get closed,
but things got better as I got
near Ohio.

The wind was kickin' unholy
ass through O H Ten, some
of the trailers on the semis
were listing to the point I
thought I might see one tip.

In Michigan I gambled
and headed west for
131, being the straighter
shot to Traverse and
hopin' the lake effect
snow wouldn't let loose.

News of the Mayor
traveling makes many
things happen.
The snow pushed near,
but steered clear.
There was even blue sky.

Traverse City is a cool
little town. As I'd said,
there's even 3 brew pubs
walking distance from
each other down town.

I was xot when I arrived,
but a hot xower and a
couple three white Russians
chilled me out.

I was stretching out my
back by pulling me knees
to my chest and my aunt
Vally Pally bumped one of
my legs and tore the xit
outtah my back.

I had to roll outtah bed the
next morning and work the
computer on my knees.

Uncle Mick and aunt 3X5
built a really nice house in
Lakes of the North.

I split my time Up North
between there and Traverse.

Out the window:

Uncle Mick, Aunt 3X5, Bottle Boy, Aunt (don't call me aunt) Vally Pally:

You can see some fairy
squeezin's on the
counter.

And, as Prol stated, there goes the Boggy Bong Water!

Great, warm, generous
fuckers and somehow we
are related. Always a
good time.

Mick where he's happiest,
tending his basement bar:

And that water bottle
was NOT converted
into a pipe by yours
truly.

A diffy1 wuz.